Your Saving Grace
by GaleSynch
Summary: Being reborn as a demigod is not something I expected. Being Thalia Grace's twin is, by extension, being a child of Zeus. Did I mention that Hera hates me and Thalia? Life is suddenly so much harder. Self-Insert, OC.
1. Prologue

**Percy Jackson & The Olympians © Rick Riordan**

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><p><strong>Your Saving Grace<strong>

**Prologue**

by GaleSynch

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><p>My name is Taylor Grace.<p>

Well, Taylor is actually short for another name but I don't like my second first name very much. Right, I sense the confusion at the mention of second first name.

Would you believe me if I said this was my second life?

No?

Sensible answer. I didn't believe it myself either.

I guess the story starts on the day I was reborn: 22nd of December, in the bustling city of Los Angeles, in the year 1988.

—

My twin sister and I were born conjoined. Good thing: neither of us were older so there would be no bossing around using the "I'm older than you" card. Bad thing: having someone cut you apart was not a pleasant sensation and it hurt like shit.

In retrospect, it was probably an ominous sign of what was to come. Our new mother, Beryl Grace, should've known that her time with us was short.

Because the lives of demigods were summed up in two words: _it hurts_.

I only vaguely remember the events of what was happening when I was reborn again. There were tons of screaming from Beryl Grace, cutting over the doctor's reassurances that we were perfectly healthy and we just needed surgery to separate us.

Even to this day, Thalia and I each have a scar on our backs, a reminder that we were twins and that no matter what happened, we were still twins. Even though the age difference between us was now very... confusing and frustrating but more on that later.

My stay in the hospital as an infant was not pleasant. I could barely see and while I was glad they spoke a language I could understand, my hearing wasn't very good and I always fall asleep—like, every three to four hours. And not to mention, I had to get used to the fact that I was an infant again.

Being changed and fed by others... needing to rely on strangers to survive... the feeling of being out of control, unable to walk or even attempt to fight back...

I did cry in frustration a couple of times, but nothing serious in comparison to the tantrums my twin threw. Even as a baby, Thalia Grace was domineering. So I guess that she didn't like relying on our mother for survival.

It was a good instinct because our mother wasn't very reliable. No, in the first few years of our lives, she was pretty OK. A little neglectful and careless but not too bad.

I like to think I was an easy baby in comparison to Thalia. Or rather, I relied on Thalia as an alarm clock for our Beryl Grace. Whenever my twin cried, she would be fed first then my mother would remember I existed and feed me as well.

Thalia was always first. Well, it might also be because I decided to use her as a measuring stick. When she spoke her first word, I did too. When she started crawling, I followed soon after. And it repeated in that same pattern whenever we encountered something new: she would be the first to approach it before I did.

She was a curious baby and daring even as a kid. I was more... cautious. Thalia was still a child back then, she knew very little of the dangers we would be facing so it was always up to me to watch out for her. It was pretty ironic how I thought myself as the older twin and everyone thought Thalia was the older one because she did everything_ first_.

The only first I beat her to was being carried by my dad.

I suppose I was extra-sensitive to him. My hair stood on end and goosebumps rose when the door clicked open without anyone opening it. I was arranging my toy blocks, not because I like playing but because I had nothing to do. I was startled, of course, that a stranger strode in like he owned the place.

So I started screaming.

The strange man gave a start but hurried over to me. I was trapped. I couldn't run or crawl—fast enough to evade him at any rate. I was just hoping that Beryl Grace's ability extended to being able to wield a wok and spatula like a sword and shield. I was imagining all the terror that would befall me that it took me more than a minute to realize the man was comforting me, trying to stop me crying in the gentlest way possible.

I stopped crying, dissolving into small sniffles as I twisted to look in his face, trying to see who he was. Being over three months old as far as I could guess, I could see and hear very well now.

The first thing I noted about him was his eyes. They were an electrifying shade of blue with cloudy gray in them, as if shielding his thoughts from being read directly out of his eyes. There were white strands woven into his hair. I suppose he could be considered handsome.

Noticing that I'd stopped crying, he smiled. There was a certain stiffness to it that made me think he smiled rarely and it was weirding him out to do that now. "Well, you have a pair of powerful lungs, Thalia."

I giggled. He thought I was my twin? Before I could try to correct him, I heard Beryl entering the room. She gave an audible gasp; I heard my sister cooing in question.

The man turned to stare at my new mother and my sister. There was a stunned silence; I glanced around to see Thalia making grabby motions for the man. Or me; she was looking directly in my eyes.

"Er... I was under the impression we were going to have a daughter... not two?"

Mother bypassed all that. "Zeus!" she cried and, Thalia in arm, threw herself at the man carrying me, pulling all of us into a group hug.

Zeus?

I stared, eyes wide in disbelief, at the man. Now that I paid more attention, I could feel power emanating from him. I still had goosebumps that didn't seem to be going away soon.

Thalia cooed in contention.

Zeus? As in the Greek god of lightning?

What?

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><p><strong>[AN]:** I'm sorry if the format is a little confusing. It'll get clearer in a few more chapters. This is the PJO fic I promised. Its inspired by "Eye of the Hurricane", another PJO SI and "Masked Blessing" by Marionetto16.

Yeah, I know that I have other stories but I don't have inspiration for them at the moment. I'll update the other fics soon, don't worry about me being stretched thin. I'll update when I have inspiration.

**Question:** You'd notice that I _didn't_ mention a particular gender. So the OC/SI could be either gender and Taylor is a unisex name. So, which is it? **Boy** or **girl**? Also, should this kid _have knowledge_ of the future?

Your choice.

**Review!**


	2. I

**Percy Jackson & The Olympians © Rick Riordan**

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><p><strong>Your Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter 1**

by GaleSynch

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><p>I chalked it up as coincidence first. I've never met Greek people but I assume my new father was one and he was named after a mythology figure. I watched him intently as he placed me on the ground, after detaching himself from mother with much difficulty, ruffling Thalia's hair but did not pick her up.<p>

"Zeus, I... well, I expected only one child—a daughter—but a son, he's a pleasant surprise isn't he? I guess we didn't detect him because he was conjoined with his sister."

My father nodded distractedly. He turned me around, not noticing my look of horror. Thalia was obviously a girl, the name indicated such and we'd been bathed together enough times for me to notice she was a girl. What boy? There was no other infant here except—

Me. I was a boy. She was referring to me.

How was that possible? I wanted to smack myself, preferably on the ground but Zeus had a firm hold on me as he unzipped my onesie. I squirmed, trying to wiggle away. "You say this blonde one is a boy?" asked Zeus for confirmation. "Conjoined... at the back?" I turned around to see a deep scowl on Zeus' face. It was not ire directed at either of us but I still felt uncomfortable.

"This the work of your... wife, isn't it?" Beryl Grace asked, a terrible look on her face as she spat 'wife' like the worst possible swear word there was.

Wait. If this man had a wife that wasn't my mother... then... Mom! Why do you look so pissed when you're the one butting into their marriage? And what _work_? What had my father's wife done to me?

Zeus nodded. "Yes, she's the goddess of childbirth. Without a doubt, she did something to combine the two eggs that house fraternal twins in hopes they kill one another... we must thank the Fates that they protect Thalia and... what's his name? Their destinies are marked to be special if the Fates intervened to ensure their continued survival."

"Thaddeus Grace," snapped Beryl Grace; her eyes were flaming with emotion.

My sperm donor heaved a sigh. "You should've named him Jason after Hera's favorite mortal. It might've appeased her somewhat."

I glanced between them, trying to make heads or tails out of this conversation. I felt as if common sense had dropped out entirely. Why did the man say mortal as if he wasn't... well, human? And what sort of coincidence was that? A husband named Zeus had a wife called Hera who liked a guy known as Jason?

And Thalia... I looked at my twin. Thalia Grace: wasn't that the name of one of the main supporting characters in a novels series I read before? The daughter of Zeus? A demigoddess?

I was her twin. I was... I was...

Look here, I was careful not to think _gods of Olympus!_ in case that opened a slot in my mind for them to roam around my thoughts and memories: stuff that ordinary babies really did not entertained the thought of.

I was gaping and even Thalia had fallen silent as Beryl Grace—our mother—raised her voice. "And why should I try to APPEASE her?"

If I could speak, I would've said, _So that she doesn't kill or curse us, lady. Did you know what she did to Hercules?_

But I couldn't so that was besides the point. I stared at them. My sperm donor heaved a sigh, zipping my onesie up and standing; he easily towered over our mother. For one moment, I thought he was going to raise his hand against her. But he didn't. However, his voice was hard when he spoke: "I thought our children mattered to you more than this."

"And what took you so long?" Beryl snarled back. "I could've said the same to you!"

The man spread his hands helplessly. "I have my duties to attend to. Anyhow, Hera knows. She is too familiar with my essence within the children developing in their mother's womb to not be able to tell a child of Zeus when she saw one. I have to keep a low-profile. Speaking of which, I may not stay long. Gods forbid, if my brothers find out—"

"Then you should stay longer to... to protect us," said Beryl, her voice mellowed and honeyed now.

"Another time, perhaps." Zeus—the king of Olympus—was watching Thalia and I. There was an inexplicable sadness in his eyes, as if he was reading our obituary. "I'll visit when I can. Goodbye, Thalia, Thaddeus..." He leaned in and kissed the mortal woman. "...Take care of them, Beryl."

"Don't I always?" she asked bitterly, watching with harsh eyes as he disappeared into thin air.

Like, into air. His body twisted and lost its color until a strong wind blew: and when I reopened my eyes, he was gone. Thalia yawned, rolling onto her back.

A nap sounded like a good idea.

**:: :: ::**

My sister and I shared a crib. I watched her freckled face, peaceful and innocent in sleep. I thought about the Thalia portrayed in the books: bitter, battle-hardened, lonely, in pain. And I felt like crying on her behalf because she would be too proud to cry.

I was her brother.

_Brother._

I'd heard the term conjoined twins before and Siamese twins undoubtedly meant same-gender kids so I thought both Thalia and I were girls. You'd think I would've noticed when Beryl changed me after I... wet myself. But that was it: the experience was so embarrassing and humiliating that I blocked everything out during those times until I was dressed again. I could never look Beryl properly in the eyes.

For the record, I _was_ a girl.

But apparently, the body I inhabited belonged to a boy. Fraternal twins, in different eggs within Beryl Grace's womb. Hera had planned to kill Thalia and I by forcefully meshing us but the "Fates" had protected us, as Zeus'd said. I was pretty sure they knew about me. They probably had a hand in it.

Honestly. Couldn't I have gotten a girl's body to match my past life's gender?

N_ooooo_... I was born as a boy. I imagined the Fates were gathering barbed wire to weave my fate with. Thanks a lot, I thought sourly, subconsciously shifting closer to Thalia.

I really did not look forward to being potty-trained.

**:: :: ::**

Once I'd gotten enough rest, I started to review what I knew about the PJO series. I'd finished every book but I didn't have a good memory about every event. The Heroes of Olympus series was something I was less-familiar with: not good since Jason Grace, my would-be brother if things went as planned, would be facing troubles there and my foreknowledge would've helped a lot.

What I didn't understand was why I existed. I'd just mess things up.

What? You think I'd just stand by and let someone take my brother away? That's if, Jason would be born. I did not look forward to taking his place in the series.

But there was no guide. Had something like this happened before? If I reached Camp Half-Blood, I would be getting my hands on the books in Athena Cabin concerning reincarnation. There had to be others like me; I hoped they'd written a guide. If not... well, I was screwed either way but that didn't mean I shouldn't write a journal and leave it for people in the same situation as I am to suffer.

I was not that cruel. I believed in karma; if I was nice, people would be nice to me, too.

Wish the same could be said for Beryl Grace though. I swear, I was nice to her in which I tried to be the least troublesome and most obedient baby in the neighborhood. She started drinking. She stopped breastfeeding us—thank the Fates!—and instead let us drink from baby bottles.

She also started drinking. Alcohol, I meant. She was a talkative drunk which meant that she talked a lot but fortunately, would not be sober enough to hit us or do anything else. She cussed a lot though. Thalia often sat at her feet and stare at her; I could see the signs of mounting distaste for our new mother.

My feelings for Beryl was... complicated to say the least. She went through a lot of pain to give birth to me, that I was grateful to her for that. But she could've been a better mother. I usually stayed out of her way and encouraged Thalia to do the same.

We had few books in the house and we had dyslexia. I was completely devastated by this fact. It was a simple picture book but Thalia tore it in frustration: neither of us could read it for the letters kept floating around. I knew ADHD and dyslexia were signs of a demigod but that didn't stop me from being bitter.

It was a wonder demigods weren't illiterate.

Thalia and I spent our time playing, running around the apartment, usually playing chase or hide-and-seek. "Keep it down, ya little rascals!" was what our mother always yelled at us in the mornings. She'd suffer from a major hungover from the previous night and she'd spent the whole morning recuperating.

I was worried when I realized Beryl Grace had no steady job. Our income came from Zeus; he sent monthly child-support checks that covered our needs. I wished he'd stop giving so much that Beryl could buy more alcohol. There were times there were no checks for months consecutively and that was how I knew Hera was in a royal snit.

Beryl had her moments of being motherly. But her maternal side only emerged at night, when she was tucking us in. At the age of three, Beryl had moved the crib to the far corner of the room and bought us a bed to share.

After a simple, "Ma, I can't read," from me, Beryl had finally been clued in on the fact that we were dyslexic so she read stories for us and spelled the words out. It was always the nicest part of the day. And because we had bedtime stories to look forward to, Thalia and I always went to bed at least ten minutes before eight.

And did I mention the fact that I liked sleeping?

Beryl would always leave at ten o'clock sharp, though. Only later would I find out that she worked at a bar as a waitress; she had night shifts and while she was there, it was also convenient for her to get drunk.

Ignorance was bliss; Thalia fell asleep not long after our mother left. But I wouldn't be able to sleep until I heard Beryl come home, around four in the morning sometimes so I wouldn't wake up until at least one in the afternoon. Unhealthy sleeping pattern? Yes, I know.

How could Beryl drive while she was drunk?

My heart seized up in fear whenever I thought about her death. For Beryl had not lived long at all. She was involved in a car accident, driving while intoxicated. However, talking her out of this bad habit was out of the question; I was a kid, what did I know? Besides, she'd never given us the lecture about how bad it was to drive while drunk: there was no way I would be able to justify my knowledge when I couldn't even read.

I was contemplating how to stop her when I heard someone tutting.

From behind me. I hadn't even heard someone coming in! And who could anyway?

My body stiffened; I kept my eyes fixed on Thalia, but my sister was asleep. Maybe I was imagining things, I told myself, trying to calm my beating heart. Just like I'd first met Zeus, my hair stood on end and goosebumps were rising.

There was an immortal deity in this room; power oozed into every corner of the room. I was surprised Thalia was sleeping so soundly. Mechanically, I turned to see who it was.

A regal woman stood a few paces from the bed; her mahogany hair was lustrous and her eyes glowed with power. There was a homey feeling around her and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw my mother's face superimposed on hers. Not Beryl Grace the mother of this body; but my mother, the real one in the other world.

I shrunk back. She tutted again. "Fear nothing, little boy. The Fates prevent me from directly harming you if both you and your sister are breathing still." Her smile was dark. "They, however, do not stop me from breaking your spirit."

"Who're you?" I asked, curious despite my reservations about her.

"My name is Hera, _boy_." Now she sounded like Artemis: dislike was poured into the last word, as if boy was the absolute worst thing I could be.

I tried for a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, Hela."

Her eyes flickered; her smile was thinning. "Hera, boy. Get rid of that pathetic lisp."

I tried again, deciding that ignoring her was certainly not wise. "He'a."

"_Hera_," she stressed.

It was too funny; I snickered. "Hera! Hera!"

She cast me a thin-lipped smile. "Avert your eyes, Thaddeus," she warned, her body glowing gold. For the first time, I noticed that she had a regal beauty about her.

"'aylor."

The goddess' brows furrowed, the light dimming. "What?"

"'aylor. My name." That was not proper. I amended myself: "'m 'aylor." Hera studied me critically, as if examining how much I was worth before I buried my face in the pillow. When I looked up again, she was gone.

It was an odd night.

**:: :: ::**

My childhood nickname was Teddy. Laugh all you want but it was cute when Thalia said it. That didn't mean I was OK when my teachers and classmates used that name.

"It's Taylor!" I told them angrily. "Taylor! Not Teddy and certainly not Teddy-Bear!"

The girls would giggly and the boys would pull my hair. Good thing I have Thalia. She sent them all packing. Even at the tender age of six, she was already a protective, brave and caring girl. We were mere kindergartners but she got into fights every single day.

I only joined when I felt that Thalia was horribly outnumbered. It was actually fun. Being a son of Zeus meant I had enhanced strength; the mortal kids were weaker than Thalia and I combined.

The best thing? Beryl wouldn't even care. Thalia and I had ended in the principal's office, our principal whom we nicknamed Snivelly, had phoned our mother.

It went like this:

"Your kids are causing us a lot of trouble, ma'am."

"Uh-huh." That was our mother's general response to everything in the mornings. She was hungover. Never had I been more glad that she would be out of it in the mornings.

"Would you please come to school so we can sort this out?"

"So they got into a couple of fights. Big deal. Its in their blood. Their older half-siblings do it all the time; Helen even started a war! You ever see someone arresting Hercules or Perseus? No_ooo_... they were rewarded and heralded as heroes! My kids are going to be like them someday—"

"Um, yes. Well, your kids would just, uh, send their love."

"Mm. Love you brats, too." Then she hung up without saying goodbye.

I laughed; Thalia smirked imperiously and crossed her arms, shooting the old man a smug look. Until he, very seriously, asked us if we'd like to go somewhere better.

Thalia's smirk drop in confusion; she glanced at me. "Whaddya mean?" she asked warily, arms crossed defensively across her chest. You can see our dad's paranoia in her little, six-year-old face. Cute.

"It is quite obvious your mother is not stable—"

"Shut up," I snapped before I could stop myself. Thalia turned and stared, eyes wide. I was acting uncharacteristically to her: even when someone pissed me off, I usually ignored them and Thalia would deal with them, the fact that I was speaking up surprised her I guess. "You know nothing about us. Shut up, you old coot."

The principal's face reddened. "Now, look here, young man. You have no father and if you have half siblings—"

"Don't talk bad about Mom!" yelled Thalia, red-faced now that she was realizing our principal was implying our mother was unstable.

I'd never met an unstable woman before and I only read in newspapers (in my past life, I was dyslexic remember?) about severe child abuse—those sort of cases were the ones that usually ended up in the news. As far as I was aware, Beryl Grace was neither.

Sure, there were bad days we had to watch over our mom instead of the other way around and we had to turn her over in case she drowned in her own vomit. Or that we had to do the chores and keep the house in shape when our mother would laze around.

I could tell Thalia would be frustrated by how she was treated like a slave. And it was usually my job to make it fun and important: such was the power of being years older. But she was growing older and smarter with each year so it was getting harder to motivate her into doing anything.

And when Thalia was frustrated or angry? It never ended well.

Like now.

My nose caught the scent of ozone in the air and when I turned around, I saw Thalia's body surrounded in electricity. The principal's eyes were wide too.

"Thalia!" I cried before she could do something rash like electrocute the principal. He was an old man, he would not be able to take it—not that I was averse to watching his hair puff up like an afro. "Stop it!"

"He said—he said—"

"He's an idiot," I said loftily, hand on her shoulder to placate her. It didn't sting like I'd expected it too. "We shouldn't bother with dumbasses like him." Her anger cooled enough to simmer quietly beneath skin but the principal was beyond livid.

The Mist that covered mortal mind must've worked on him because he thought the 'child of Zeus' thing was actually because we pulled the plug off his computer and trashed it. How his mind worked that crap out, I'll never know.

Long story short: we were expelled.

Beryl was more curious than angry though. She eyed Thalia curiously. "Electricity, you say?" We nodded. Then Beryl graced us with a rare but beatific smile. "Well, you certainly are your father's daughter, Thalia."

That stung. There was something resembling pride in Beryl's eyes. She'd never looked at me that way before. "Teddy?" called Thalia. She frowned at me. "You're not upset are you?"

"No. I'm just gonna do my homework," I told her.

Thalia made a face. "_What_? We've been kicked out of school and we _still_ have to do homework?" I chuckled at the face she made.

Was I that disoriented that I lied so poorly? "I mean, I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap."

She shrugged. "I'll wake you up for our favorite show." Then she left for the living room while I headed to our shared room. I was pretty sure I had the same powers as her. The problem was stimulating it. Thalia had been angry when she used it but I wasn't angry at anything right now.

Just a little ill with jealousy.

I set my bag on the ground, beside my desk and pulled my pencil case out. I fished inside for my metal ruler and placed it in front of me. I tapped it alternately, due to my ADHD, I simply must move; even if my fingers did all the movement to remove pent-up energy.

I closed my eyes and concentrated, reaching into myself, searching for the "sensation" Thalia had described when she saw electricity sparking. I was about to nod off when I felt my right arm going numb. My eyes flew open; the tips of my fingers were tingling. I stared as blue electricity danced around my open palm.

I was so fascinated that I didn't realize Thalia had been storming down the hallway to our room until she threw open the door so hard the flimsy wood bounced off the door. The tugging in my fingertips disappeared completely as my concentration loosened. I turned to scowl at Thalia.

"You've got to see this," she said, her jaw clenched tightly. She looked angry.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Did they cancel the show?"

"It's a man," she snapped in response, blue eyes flashing. "He claims to be our father, Zeus."

**:: :: ::**

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><p><strong>[AN]:** Anything can happen in Greek mythologies, is all I'm saying and Hera doesn't seem to be above doing that. So, the result is obvious since a lot of people voted for boy. Thanks for all the reviews, guests or not.

**Question:** Do any of you know other PJO SI's? Also, tell me what you think?

**Review!**


	3. II

**Percy Jackson & The Olympians © Rick Riordan**

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><p><strong>Your Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter 2**

by GaleSynch

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><p>"I've visited when the both of you were younger, I doubt you remember though." The King of Olympus flashed us a nervous, hesitant smile from across the dining table where he sat beside our mother; Thalia and I sat on their opposite. Evidently, Thalia had not given him a positive welcome if his actions were anything to go by.<p>

Well, what had he expected? Hugs, cookies, and identical cries of "Daddy!" as we ran to greet him? I snorted mentally, in his dreams maybe. Did he even know his kids? Sorry. I probably sound too bitter to be healthy. Ignore this.

I studied him curiously. "I do... remember you," I admitted quietly and his eyes shifted to rest on me. I squirmed in my seat, nervous. "Are you really Zeus? We heard about him in Mom's Greek stories."

"Not stories. They're real, Teddy," said Beryl, her eyes warning me not to piss my father off. I knew that without her saying it. He was dangerous. I was pretty sure Tantalus was a son of Zeus and he had not hesitated to punish the man; granted that asshole killed his son and cooked him.

"Teddy?" repeated Zeus, smirking. I let out a small groan. That name was anything but heroic. If I were to really go down in myths, I would hate to be known as Teddy Grace. I shot Thalia a dark look: this was all her fault, she was the one who came up with it in the first place.

Thalia smirked at me, obviously enjoying my embarrassment. But then she recalled it had been our absent father speaking and she scowled darkly. "Where's proof?" she demanded, rude enough to earn a noise of discontent from Beryl.

"Its lunchtime. Have you eaten anything?" he asked us instead.

Thalia and I exchanged glances; we barely knew our father so we didn't know how to act around him. I said, feeling wrong-footed, "No, sir."

"What would you like?"

"I'm assuming you're not going to cook," I muttered. The thought of him wearing Mom's pink apron with a teddy bear on top of his pinstriped suit was too much. I ducked under the table, I'd been holding off my laughter so hard I thought I'd cracked two ribs already.

"Teddy!"

"Sorry, Mom. I was practicing sarcasm to use in real-life situations," I replied as I straightened, returning to my seat.

Zeus cast me an odd look. "We want cheeseburgers and fries and Coke!" Thalia piped up, drawing his attention away from me. I had a feeling he didn't quite know what to make of us.

"Done," he said, flashing a smile that revealed straight rows of teeth—_note to self: brush teeth more often_—as he snapped his fingers. What Thalia requested was present before our eyes; the scent was heavenly. Without anymore hesitation, we dug in. "Are you two... well, aware of what you are?"

"A boy and a girl," I replied drily as Thalia was still busy chewing. The noise she made was one of agreement.

"Thaddeus Hades Grace, I did not raise you to be so rude," said Beryl angrily. She had been served steak and she was eating it with, well, _grace_. Our father was not eating, I noted. "He meant if you know you're similar to the heroes in the bedtime stories I told you."

Thalia spoke, "You mean those heroes? The demigods?"

Zeus nodded. "Yes. The both of you are demigods." His eyes did not say he wanted us to jump up and down in ecstasy that we were related to him and famous mythology figures.

His confirmation made everything seem so much real. My stomach churned. I picked at my fries, Thalia was slurping her drink and even Mom had stopped eating. "Um," I said softly, "Didn't Hera sort of... curse all of them?"

Zeus sighed. "Yes, my wife does not... favor my children."

"That's a mild way of putting it," Beryl sniped and I refrained from rolling my eyes as I took another bite from my burger. And she told me to be polite.

Zeus ignored that, but his brows furrowed. "You named my son... Hades?"

I'd just found out recently and my father's reaction was similar to my own. "As a way to appease him," responded my mother dryly. "If naming someone a specific name can appease someone, I don't see why not. Thalia's middle name is Amphitrite, after your other brother's wife."

"Beryl, dear, I do not think it's wise to throw those names out so casually. Names have powers," he added, glancing at my twin and I to make sure we understood the significance of his sentence. "Do not use it lightly."

"Yes, sir," we said.

Mom looked slightly offended. "But you said your brother's name so casually."

"But I'm me," our Dad responded, brows climbing to his hairline; he seemed mystified that he needed a reason to do whatever it was he did. It made me smile. "I can do it but neither of you should."

"But we can," noted Thalia thoughtfully.

"Still, it is not advisable. I have a pretty good idea as to what my brother will do and it would not be pleasant." Zeus refilled my glass of Coke absentmindedly, nodding in the same manner when I murmured my thanks. "Thalia, Teddy―" Dad's lips twitched into a smirk at my indignant look but Mom's stern gaze made me keep my mouth shut. "―the both of you are nearing the age where monsters would attack."

"Like, the Minotaur, Furies, sphinx, and―"

"Whatever monster you can think of, yes," interrupted Zeus, pulling a mace canister and a choker with a lightning-strike pendant from his breast pocket and placing it on the table. "Which means you would need weapons to defend yourselves with. For the record, only Celestial Bronze can harm monsters. They won't work on mortals."

I reached tentatively for the mace canister but Thalia beat me to it and snatched it off the table. "I want this one," she declared. She cast the choker a look of distaste: she was not a very feminine girl.

"No way," I hissed, nudging her with my foot. "I'm not taking that accessory!"

"Stop arguing," said Beryl. She was studying the accessory. "You're pretty enough to make a fashion out of it, anyhow, Teddy." I groaned. I wanted my Mom to praise me but not my looks. Handsome? OK. Cute? Acceptable. Pretty? Embarrassing, especially in front of our father who was the epitome of manliness. "Put it on," she encouraged, smiling and whatever protest I had in my mouth died away.

Zeus was smiling; I was surprised that it made me feel warm, safe and protected all at once. It had been awhile since I felt that way so acutely. I knew lives for demigods were dangerous from the moment I found out, I'd always lived with that like a cloud hovering over me. Or to be more precise, a shadow that I could not detach.

"You quite resemble your older half-sister Helen, the most beautiful mortal of all time," commented Zeus. "I suppose this comes from your mother." Then he flashed his mortal lover a grin that was too brilliant to be accepted.

Beryl blushed.

Smooth, dad. Appeasing me and flirting with Mom, smooth.

I took it and examined it miserably. Even as a girl in my past life, I hadn't been too hung up on accessories. I prefer a watch. "Thanks, Dad," I said, shooting Thalia the stink-eye.

"This doesn't seem to be bronze," she said.

"Well spotted," I grumbled, examining the choker. Was it even one? There was a leather cord and the pendant dangled listlessly before my eyes. "Dad, how is this a weapon?"

"The mace canister is a spear. You just have to press that―ah, that's the one, Thalia," explained Zeus once he removed himself from the dewy-eyed stare between him and Beryl. "The choker is a saber. Pluck the pendant and spin it in your hand―once is enough, Teddy―voila."

Thalia marveled her spear, eyes wide with awe. I could tell she had an affinity with it. And as for my saber... It was bronze, extending even to its hilt and guard. "It's... nice. Who's going to teach us though?"

"All heroes learn themselves," said Zeus. "Or, you will be taught by Chiron at Ca―"

"Zeus," said Beryl, cutting into the conversation; her voice was surprisingly chilly. "I thought we wouldn't be sending them there so soon?"

Zeus glanced between Thalia and I; we were waiting for more information, eagerly at that. "Can you two run along? Feel free to practice in the playground, there is a force that prevents the mortals from seeing the truth of the world, they won't be alarmed by the sight of real weapons. Don't injured one another and don't talk to strangers. Your mother and I need to talk."

And just like that, we were dismissed.

We knew that he was not asking us, but ordering us too. My twin and I marched out of the room and down the apartment. We lived pretty high up, I assumed this was because Zeus could watch us better this way.

True to Zeus' assessment, no mortals questioned us. Thalia jabbed experimentally at me with her spear; she did it curiously, not with real strength so I just let her have at it. "Ow," I said just to appease Thalia when she scowled like she wanted me to keel over and bleed. "We should do things slowly."

"Like in slow-motion?"

"Yeah, in case we hurt one another. Once we're used to it, we can go at it quickly."

Mechanically, I deflected her spear, ducking as she swung it at me. She overbalanced and stumbled, yelping. I reached out to steady her. "What do you think Mom and Dad are talking about?" I asked.

Thalia frowned. "You're calling him Dad?" she demanded. "You sound so accepting!"

"What should I call him then?" I rolled my eyes. "He's our dad whether we like it or not so we better start calling him that. He seems OK," I added, seeing the question in my twin's eyes. Years of being together had taught me what sort of person she was. I could usually guess what she was going to say.

"He doesn't seem mean, I suppose," she conceded. Her face clouded with bitterness. "I wish he'd stay longer though. Or visit often."

"He sends child-support checks," I pointed out. "Remember Emily? She keeps coming to class with bruises. Her dad abuses her. I heard he got arrested recently. I think our Dad is much better than Mr. Miller."

Thalia grunted, seeing my point but not willing to admit it. "Why do you think he came back?"

"...Maybe he misses us as much as we missed him?" I suggested halfheartedly, unsure as to why he came back as well. My thoughts was mostly compromised of wishful thinking though. "I dunno. I'm just glad he came back. When do you think we can go back in?" The last thing I wanted was to walk in on them. We might disrupt Jason's existence and get horribly scarred for life.

I will never look at boys or girls the same way—ever.

Fortunately, Thalia sensed that I did not want to go back so soon. "Let's practice more. This is cool. Definitely way better than playing on the swing."

So I put distance between us and readied my sword. I'd only watched people fighting with weapons like these in movies and they had stances like these... I think... yeesh, you'd think Zeus would give us handbooks about these but no, he left us to our own devices.

My twin and I spent at least two hours mock-sparring and an hour jogging and at least half-hour playing the playground before our father came to get us.

"Go home," he said simply, as if we had been stubbornly maintaining our desire to stay here. It was the end of October and I was starting to grow very cold. My hand was held by Thalia, in an effort to keep heat between us. "Children, take care of one another and your mother."

"We always do that," said Thalia. There was a pause as I tried to tug Thalia back to the apartment complex. "Are you leaving for good now?" My sister asked quietly.

"No. There is a high chance you will see me again." Zeus ruffled our heads. "Goodbye." And, like many years before, he disappeared into thin air.

Thalia suppressed a sniffle. I was surprised by that. I squeezed her hand in reassurance.

"We expected too much of him," I whispered and together, we head back home.

**:: :: ::**

We were going to have a new sibling. That thought excited me so much I could barely keep the grin off my face. Thalia was eager but mostly curious, she didn't see the appeal as much as I did. The best thing? Beryl was more sober than I recall and she kept a steady job for the following months in the morning.

Thalia and I were also shipped off to a new elementary school.

We still have dyslexia and ADHD; we excelled in gym. I did well in arithmetic since it involved counting and there were few struggles to read. Art was also a class I did not suffer multiple headaches in.

Naturally, we still got into fights even though I kept intoning to Thalia to keep it at a minimum or pick fights once we were out of the school grounds in case the teachers caught us.

If we beat the crap out of one another outside school, the teachers had no say in that. Because, technically (and I love technicalities), we were out of school so school rules were meaningless.

Thalia fought to defend us and to vent her anger. I did it to test myself against them. If we couldn't beat mortals, what chances do we have against monsters?

The first time we encountered a monster—a hellhound—Dad had been there, his presence warding the monster off. The second monster was a Cyclops but it just glared at us with one eye and stalked off. I had a sinking feeling it was Poseidon's spy. I did not approach, even though I wanted to kill it before news could reach the sea god about our existence.

Did I mention how Zeus was a bad secret-keeper?

The nine months waiting while Jason got bigger and bigger in Beryl's womb was peaceful, idyllic and I was content, happy even. Thalia and I had gotten through most of the school year without getting expelled, a couple of detentions were nothing to sneeze at and we weren't even hauled into the principal's office! Was that not a good accomplishment or what?

Newborn Jason was not a pretty baby when he was born. He was the size of a loaf of bread; pink, purple and wrinkly with a small tuft of blonde hair on top of his pink head.

I laughed at the expression on Thalia's face when she saw Jason for the first time: she had been severely disappointed.

"Don't worry, Lia, he'll be cute when he grows up!"

**:: :: ::**

Beryl was in the hospital for a couple of months so, with the money Zeus had given her, she hired a babysitter to cook and clean for us. This was good because we could order the babysitter to cook whatever we wanted to eat and she must do it.

It amazed me that I'd only noticed how she looked like after she'd been working at our house for three months. Her eyes were different; no mortals would have such eyes: flame-colored eyes, flickering minutely with kindness, warmth, power and love. It was the last day of her work when I decided to comment about it.

I figured it would be pretty safe to do so since she had shown no harm towards us before. "You're not mortal." I started the conversation by saying that. Tactless? Maybe.

Tia Hess was her name. She looked about eighteen or so, with mousy brown hair framing a freckled, pretty face and kind eyes. Her smile could lit up the whole room. She always pulled a smile from Thalia and I; this was an amazing feat since Thalia didn't smile often.

"No, I'm not. How long have you known?"

"Just a few days ago," I admitted sheepishly. "I'm not very observant, I know. It's dangerous for a demigod to be so unaware, is what you're going to say, right?"

"Something along those lines, yes," she agreed. "For my last day here, I've pulled out all my stops!" she chirped, clapping her hands and plates of my favorite dishes filled the dining table. She'd given up the pretense of being normal. I should've known something was up the first time she prepared our demands so quickly.

"Thank you," I said.

"I'll get your sister," said Tia. "Sit down and enjoy your meal."

Thalia came down shortly and the both of us waved Tia away. I watched from the window as she flickered in and out of existence before disappearing altogether. "Teddy, I'll finish your share!"

"Not so fast, Lia!" I flipped the curtains close and ran back to the dining room, eagerly anticipating the chance to be able to hold my new brother.

**:: :: ::**

"Babies are fragile so don't be rough," warned Beryl from where she was sprawled lazily on the other couch, apparently exhausted. Thalia and I were sat side-by-side, squashed together in an armchair as I cradled Jason. If we went according to tradition, Thalia usually got to try everything before I did.

But Beryl seemed to think I was more careful and gentle than Thalia so I got the honor of holding my brother first, something that Thalia sulked about for a total of three minutes before she came to sit beside me.

"Let me hold him next," she hissed into my ear.

"He's asleep," I said. "Be careful." Despite my reservations, I handed Jason over. Then I turned to assess my mother's health. "Mom, are you OK? You look very pale."

Beryl squinted at me. "It's just the artificial light, darling," she assured me. She glanced at Thalia and Jason.

"What's bothering you, Mom?" I persisted.

A flash of annoyance passed Beryl's eyes; her lips were pursed tightly in displeasure. I thought she was going to yell at me when she said, quietly, "I didn't get to choose my youngest son's name."

"Jason is a nice name," said Thalia, tickling Jason's cheek, intrigued.

"Not if it's to appease that she-demon!" hissed Beryl with surprising vehemence. Hera was a subject we never touched since she could sent Mom into a raging fit―I didn't think both ladies would appreciate that they were both very similar. Mainly because she had what Mom wanted: Zeus, immortality and eternal beauty. Jason whinged in discomfort, as if sensing his mother's displeasure of his name. I hoped this wouldn't affect how she treated Jason.

Beryl's expression softened a tad when Jason sniffled.

"Where's Dad?" asked Thalia. "Has he held Jason yet? Did he visit you in the hospital?"

Beryl's lips curled in disdain. "Who do you think named your youngest brother?" she huffed, slumping back in her seat. "I don't even know when he's coming back. Dropping by after seven years just to knock me up again... as if the first time isn't bad enough."

Thalia glanced up, startled. "What? Are you saying we're― Teddy, tell her!" Her vocabulary wasn't very large.

"We're inconveniences, are we?" I finished for my twin. I wouldn't deny that it stung.

Beryl scowled darkly, as if we were idiotic for even needing to ask. "I was in the prime of my career!" she cried. "I would've been the next big thing if you two hadn't come knocking!"

"Knocking and knocked up," I mumbled. "Nice pun."

Thalia made to stand but recalled Jason's weight was pulling her down; she roughly dumped him in my arms. I nearly dropped him when he started screaming as his older sister leapt to her feet, glaring at our mother. "Lia!" I reprimanded but she ignored me.

"Well, if you hadn't fallen for Dad like so many other harlots did, you WOULDN'T be in this situation," Thalia growled.

"Thalia Amphitrite Grace! YOU DID NOT JUST CALL ME A HARLOT!" Our mother shrieked; Jason's cries were deafening. I stood and hastily made my way to my bedroom; my mother and sister were going nuclear on one another but Jason would only make things more chaotic.

"Shh," I tried in vain to calm him but he kept crying. His cheeks were red and wet with discontent. I closed the door, but the walls and distance didn't completely muffle the argument going on in the living room. "Shh, don't cry, Jason. Big brother's here."

Truth was, I wanted to leave Jason there and pull Mom and Thalia apart before they could rip one another to shreds. But letting Jason cry till his throat tore did not seem to be a nice big brother thing to do. I couldn't sing to my life and I would sooner be caught dead and be caught singing.

But, I read somewhere lullabies calmed babies.

So, swallowing my pride and embarrassment, I coughed out a few notes: simple nursery rhymes Beryl had sung for Thalia and I when we were kids. Somehow, amazingly, it worked even though it left me with a scratchy throat.

"You have a nice voice," said a throaty voice from the doorway.

I jumped. "Mom!" I exclaimed, careful not to startle Jason. The baby was asleep; he looked so peaceful I didn't dare move for fear he'd wake. "Where's Thalia?" I asked. Then I caught the hurt in her expression: she thought I didn't care about her. "I mean, how are you?"

"Thalia ran off after we argued." I felt a momentary stab of anger and resentment towards Thalia for making our mother's voice crack. Beryl Grace had abandonment issues, she was fragile in her own way. Her career started at the top and went downhill from there. It was too much, it broke her in a way that I could not comprehend. She had no steady job and she had three kids to raise while she pined for the father of the children. I wished I had a few drops of water from the River Lethe to help erase her memories of Zeus. "I'm OK, Teddy."

"Mom, when are you going to call me Taylor?" I asked, trying to sound annoyed but sounding exasperated instead.

She smiled a watery sort of smile. "You can be the greatest hero and you'll still be my Teddy."

My chest smarted with emotion. She would never live long enough to watch what sort of demigod I would be. I might not live long enough to be anything she'd be proud of.

"I'm going to find Thalia," I said. "I'll leave Jason in the crib, is that alright with you? He's asleep so he won't cause so much trouble."

Beryl nodded, stepping away to allow me to pass.

On impulse, I grabbed her wrist and squeezed her hand in reassurance. She returned it; but surprised me by pulling me into a tight hug. "You're a good boy, Teddy."

Something was wrong. I felt like she was saying goodbye.

I offered her a sad smile and left the apartment.

**:: :: ::**

* * *

><p><strong>Question:<strong> What sort of person do you think Teddy is? What do you expect of him?

**Review!**


	4. III

**Percy Jackson & The Olympians © Rick Riordan**

* * *

><p><strong>Your Saving Grace<strong>

**Chapter 3**

by GaleSynch

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><p>"Lia, it's cold out here. Let's go back already," I coaxed, voice gentle even though I was severely annoyed. I stared, half-exasperated and half-amused at my twin sister who sat at the end of the slide in the playground: her knees were pulled to her chest and there was a petulant pout on her face.<p>

So cute. My siblings were beyond adorable. Annoying though, but I guess everything has a downside.

"No," she said. "You can go back to that woman if you want, I'm not going."

"Lia, that woman is our mother."

"So?" She scowled. "She doesn't act like it." My twin was right but I decided that agreeing would not make things easier.

"There are kids way worse off than us," I tried.

Thalia cast a wistful look at the pedestrians. "Wonder what it's like to be like them," she murmured. I heard her though. I glanced in the general direction was looking: a mortal family, father, mother and child.

"Well, we might never have been twins for one." I paused. "I might not even exist." That, as far as I knew, was true.

That thought seemed to have made an impact because Thalia spun around to face me, springing to her feet and seizing my hands in a tight grip. I leaned forward and our foreheads rested together. "Don't," she said, voice thick with emotion and that was how I knew her argument with Beryl had been more soul-cutting than I'd initially assumed. "Don't say that. I don't think I can stand being with her in that house without you or Jason."

"Say you're sorry," I suggested.

"No!" I knew her answer even before she said it.

I nearly rolled my eyes. "Jeez. She won't do it either. You two are too alike for your own good."

Thalia wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I won't end up like her," she said stubbornly. "I won't resort to alcohol just because some guy left me."

I blinked. "Heh. I thought for sure you were gonna say something along the lines of, _'I don't need men to complete me'_ or something."

"Dummy, I need _you_ for my life to be complete."

I blushed but couldn't deny that sentence made me feel a myriad of positive emotions: several stages of love and gratefulness. I guess I didn't realize how much I relied on her for my sanity―for her to be my pillar of support.

"Love you, too."

**. . .**

The atmosphere in the house was tense for awhile. Mom and Thalia skirted around one another; they answered normally to me but I felt like I was making very forced conversation whenever they were both in the same room. Jason was the only one who seemed unaffected by this.

It wasn't until a fortnight later when Zeus finally paid us a visit.

Or Jupiter. I didn't know. I couldn't tell; outwardly, they appeared the same.

"Good evening, Dad," I greeted, balancing Jason on one hip. He nodded, glancing at his youngest son.

"May I?" Even as he spoke, he was already reaching for the blonde baby who studied the newcomer interestedly. I handed him over, removing my hands only when I was sure Zeus had my brother in a secure hold. I guess millennia of having so many children had made him an expert when it came to baby-handling. "Hello, Jason," he said stiffly though he seemed perfectly at ease when handling the baby.

"I think Mom needs you more than Jason does," I said quietly, trying to get him to make Mom feel better. I was pretty sure she was in depression.

"I'll talk to Beryl. Where is your sister?" Zeus' electric blue eyes swept around the room.

"Why?"

His lips tightened briefly at my bold questioning of his orders―something I was sure he did not like. "I think it's prudent for babies to have a breath of fresh air. You and your sister can take Jason out for a walk." His tone made it clear it was not a suggestion.

"OK." I opened my arms and accepted Jason as Zeus passed him to me. Jason sniffled at the change of arms. I felt a tad insulted that he would prefer our dad to me but shuffled into the kitchen where Thalia was preparing dinner.

Tia Hess had taught us a few tricks and we can prepare a couple of simple meals now. I was usually in charge of making breakfast and washing the dishes; Thalia made lunch and dinner.

"Who was―?" She broke off when she saw Zeus entering after me. "Oh, never mind." I looked pointedly at her; she sounded less than polite. "We're having curry tonight," she informed me.

"Mm. I think we're missing a couple of ingredients." I gave her the barest of winks.

Thalia caught the hint quickly. "Right. Let's go to the supermarket."

"Spend wisely," said Zeus as he passed Thalia a couple bucks.

"I love Jason, really, but we don't need another baby in the house," grumbled Thalia as we exited the apartment, starting for the elevator. "We're having a hard enough time taking care of Jay, can you imagine needing to feed another needy baby?"

"Jay isn't very demanding," I pointed out, wincing as Jason tugged experimentally on my hair; his grip was abnormally strong for a baby. "We should count our lucky stars he's so easy to calm down."

"Yeah." Thalia offered me a little smirk. "We just need you to sing."

"You promised not to tease me," I complained. "Or bring that up for the matter!"

"I'm your big sister, it's my job to tease you."

"You're not older than me!" I protested vehemently. "We were born at the same time."

"No thanks to Hera," she said snidely.

I glanced nervously around. As I'd kept little secrets from my twin sister, I'd told her about that nighttime visit the goddess had paid us. Till this day, I was waiting for divine retribution just for being born. But so far so good.

Wait. Did I just jinx myself? I wanted to smack myself but since I was holding onto a squirming Jason, there was little I could do to punish myself. "Names have powers," I murmured vaguely, recalling the first time Zeus had told us that.

"I don't see how," said Thalia as we stepped into the elevator. She jabbed the button with more force than necessary. I took inventory of the small, cramped place. Thalia was keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the elevator doors: she didn't like heights. It had something to do with Beryl dropping Thalia here, once when we were still babies. I'm 90% sure of it.

This elevator held a few fond memories of our childhood. As four-year-olds, when Beryl brought us out to the movies or just to the park near the apartment complex, we'd always rushed ahead of her and bicker about who had to lift the other high enough to press the button.

Thalia always had her way.

Then, before we left, we'd leave a little souvenir by littering candy wrappers or by pressing every button and cackling as the passengers grumbled incessantly. Some even cussed at us but Beryl always managed to cuss them out. Our mom had her awesome moments. I was seized by a terrible sense of wistfulness as I remembered how Ms. Grace spiraled into her own destruction, unable to make amends with her children.

I didn't want my mom to end up that way.

"Teddy, you coming? Stop daydreaming!"

I stepped out of the elevator, mind racing.

**. . .**

For everyone's sake, I tried my best to be happy, or at least appear normal. But I think I'm failing terrifically because even Mom had stopped me in the hallway and asked me if something was wrong. Yeesh. If our 24-drunk mother had noticed something was wrong, I might as well be parading around with a huge sign proclaimed in red, "Help me!"

Jason was seventh months old and had been crawling around energetically around our apartment these days. All three of us children of Zeus slept in the same room. I felt resentful towards Jason at times when he would wake Thalia and I up at an unholy hour by screaming and crying in hunger. Sometimes, I entertained the thought of smothering him with my pillow―or Beryl for dumping us the job of raising Jason.

We might as well be Jason's parents—the boy and girl who took care of him. I hoped he would be old enough soon for us to clear the misconception: he seemed to gravitate towards Thalia and I more than he did to Beryl.

In fact, I had seen very little interactions between them. Odd since Beryl had been fired for missing so many days of her job. Since Thalia and I had school to attend, Jason would be left with our mom.

I knew Thalia was uneasy about that fact; I was, too, since Beryl seemed more and more unstable. Her cheeks were permanently flushed red from the amount of alcohol she forced upon herself.

We knew why.

Our shopping trip on the last day we saw our father ended very early the moment we overheard our neighbors―two old crabby old ladies that resembled one another so much they had to be related―talking about how "an unruly couple about to divorce". Our other neighbors were happily married and no arguments would be occurring between them anytime soon.

So it had to be Zeus and Beryl.

They were screaming loud enough for us to open the door without being detected. Most of the screaming was done by Mom though, Dad had just raised his voice to make himself heard or to interject at a few intervals.

Thalia and I exchanged frightened glances. Jason was toying with my hair, pulling harshly on my blonde curls but I barely paid him any attention.

"―two sons and daughter! And this is how you REPAY me?!"

"Beryl, I came not because I wanted children. Thalia and Teddy weren't even meant to be born―Jason even less so." Thalia gasped. I was suddenly so glad Jason was too young to understand anything: being, essentially, told you weren't wanted had to have hurt regardless of how mature you think you are.

My heart smarted; my eyes stung.

"Oh, oh. So you're saying we're_ MISTAKES_?" Thanks, Mom. I really wanted to yell at him like that. "What are you going to do to them? Sending them to that WRETCHED place is no different than taking EVERYTHING away from me!"

"Beryl, be reasonable. Three children of Zeus in one household is _suicide_, Hades already knows. And I can't stay here. I'm the king of the gods, I must set an example and I've broken this rule too many times."

"You can't be serious! You came back, you can't leave me here again―_alone_!" Our mother practically shrieked. I shifted Jason uneasily. Thalia was uncharacteristically stiff.

"You won't be," said Zeus and he sounded beyond stressed. I wondered why. Was he sad that he had to leave her? Or was he finding her to be bothersome and he can't wait to get away? "The kids are there for you. Thalia, Teddy and Jason―"

"And what about you?" Beryl's voice lowered dangerously; she sounded on the verge of breaking apart. I took a step forward but Thalia seized my arm, shaking her head empathetically: this was not a battle I could interfere with. "I gave you three children. Two sons! Don't _I_ get to be happy?"

Thalia's fingernails dug into my arm. Beryl had not mentioned Thalia. My twin never gave the impression she wanted our mother's attention much but being the least loved could be hurting, too.

"Don't you love me?" Mom continued in a broken whisper.

"I loved all my mortal lovers, Beryl, in my own way," he responded, voice tender in a way he hadn't shown me or Thalia. I wondered if Mom'd feel better if she knew this. "But this... this is to be expected. I have my duties on Olympus."

"Why can't you take me with you then? I don't deserve to be abandoned after all I've given you. You're the king of the gods! Immortality and eternal beauty―it can't be _that_ hard for you to grant, Zeus!" Beryl cried.

I couldn't imagine Zeus' face but I thought he could've been gritting his teeth in frustration. "You've given me a wonderful time and three beautiful kids, I love you even more for that. But who would care for the children? You're their mother, you're all they have."

"You made Ganymede immortal!" Beryl screamed, completely bypassing the question he posted; I heard footsteps approaching and I looked up into my father's stony face. I took an unwilling step back, wrenching Thalia to my side to make way for him. "How am I different from _him_?"

Zeus did not grace her with an answer; he shot me a particularly uncomfortable look. Your dad's bisexual and has a male lover and everyone knows that. How do I react?

I stared stupidly at him, Jason was oddly silent and even Thalia was gaping at him. As expected, Thalia was the first to unstuck her throat. "You're leaving?" she demanded incredulously, over our mother's renewed sobs.

"We will meet again, not very soon, but someday. I can foresee that much."

I felt a lump of renewed anger building in my throat when he strode past me. "What, not even a hug?" I asked, voice sagging with sarcasm and bitterness I could not hide.

The footsteps stopped. Thalia was glaring at our sire, eyes blazing with unshed tears and hatred. We both knew our mother would not be able to take this. This would be the final straw.

Zeus' face was oddly blank. "Open your arms, Thalia, Thaddeus."

Startled that he'd used my full name, I extended the arm that was free of my brother's weight. Thalia obeyed, albeit hesitantly and scowling as she did so. It happened too quickly, too suddenly for me to process it properly but Zeus embraced us. Thalia went so stiff in his arms that I thought she'd turned to gold.

I realized I wasn't much better; I gripped my father's pinstriped suit tightly, uncertain, and the lump in my throat threatened to dissolve into tears. Jason cooed, reaching out to pat our father's face. Then, just as abruptly, Zeus pulled back. "Stay strong," he said and walked out of the open doorway.

He didn't even smooth his suit.

I sobbed.

**. . .**

Jason's first birthday passed without celebration but with a couple of disasters. In the past few years, Beryl had at least bought Thalia and I out for movies, or cakes at a cafe, amusement parks, or to the seaside for a vacation. That woman did not seem to care that our paternal uncles were out to get us and thus, the beach was a very, very bad place to hang out.

Someone had called earlier: our mom had passed out somewhere and the speaker told us to retrieve her.

Thalia and I bickered about who would deal with our mother. "You go," I said, frustration building hot and red behind my eyes; I felt a headache coming on. "I'll take care of Jason. He likes me better."

"No, he doesn't!" cried Thalia passionately. "I don't want to be lumped with that irresponsible woman!"

"Show some respect, sis!"

"Ted, I want," said Jason.

"Later," I told my brother irately as Thalia yelled, "I'll show respect when she starts acting like a real mother!"

I snarled and retorted angrily. Thalia was red-faced, screaming at me when a new sound pierced the air: Jason screaming. I was stumped for a moment. I looked down. Jason's mouth was smeared with red, his lip bleeding profusely. He was crying very loudly.

"You go get Mom, I'll deal with his injury," said Thalia, snatching this opportunity as I was stumped by the fact I had been a horrible older brother.

Numb with that unexpected blow, I wandered to the kitchen to retrieve the pile of cash we kept in the topmost shelf. In retrospect, I thought grudgingly, I was probably the better choice. Mom had been pulling crazy stunts lately and I hated it when people started whispering when an eight-year-old kid was the one who came to retrieve her. I just knew they'd ask questions.

Then the familiar, disparaging look of pity, and occasionally, the offers to enter foster care.

My cheeks were slightly hot when I exited the cab and saw a circle of people. I knew instantly that my mother was there. I shoved through the crowd, hissing cusses and uncaring of how many feet I trod on.

I just knew I needed to get my mother out of here and back home.

**. . .**

I was practically dragging Beryl out of the taxi and up to the elevator—still mortified by earlier events as I balanced my mother's weight, she could barely walk straight. By unspoken agreement, Thalia and I traded our charges. She fostered Jason—who was sniffling, pouty lips red—onto me. "It's going to scar, isn't it?" I murmured, brushing my index finger over his lips.

My lips quirked. Some things, it seemed, would never change.

"Ted," said my brother. "Hurts."

"It'll go away in awhile," I promised, placing him in the crib.

"Wanna play catch," he demanded.

"Sure." I smiled, trying to distract him from the raised voices in the living room. I'd learned to leave those two at it. They were too stubborn for their own good and if I interjected, they'd just turn their ire on me: not good at any rate. I brushed that thought away and concentrated instead on the toy blocks strewn around the room.

I'd practiced the powers I had whenever I got the chance to.

Unlike Thalia who didn't bother much. I think it had something to do with her wish to be mortal, an ordinary kid, that made her ignore her abilities. To keep up the illusion of normality, she'd rarely played with it until I challenged her (which was the only way one could get her to jump into things eagerly).

I channeled the buzzing feeling in my arms to the tips of my fingers, drawing on the slight breeze coming in through the open window for help. I directed the wind to sweep the blocks up; they danced tauntingly around Jason's head. "Five points for Block A," I called out helpfully.

Jason let out an excited squeal, jumping to catch the aforementioned block. I'd move it out of his reach but I'd relent when he started pouting and let him win.

This was killing two birds with one stone: I could train and he could be entertained.

I was just letting Jason poke and prod the "blue firework"—electricity sparking between my palms—when Thalia stormed in. She scowled. "Stop that. What if it hurts him?"

"We're children of Zeus. We're immune to electricity," I responded but I let the sparks died, looking pointedly at Thalia when Jason let out a low whinge. "Want a drink?" Even as I spoke, I was already pushing her a cup of cold, orange juice. Her expression softened as she accepted the glass and downed it in one go.

I decided to neglect mentioning how Beryl probably drunk her alcohol in the same manner. "I can't stand her," said Thalia angrily, nearly slamming the glass down on the table.

I spun in my seat. "Mm." I sounded disinterested because she said that every time they argued.

"I'm thinking the three of us should leave."

That was new. I stopped spinning to look at her: she was perfectly serious and she assessed me for a sign of protest. "What? You can't be... that's crazy!" Technically, I was an adult but even though I'd emancipated from my parents, I'd still lived under a roof. Living a nomadic lifestyle and needing to constantly worry about when the next meal will arrive... it did not seat well with me. "Just because you can't stand Mom doesn't mean we have to leave. Just ignore her."

"I can't!" Thalia exploded. "Do you know what they say about us? About Mom? They call her a whore!"

"Not in front of Jason!" I hissed, cheeks splotched red with anger at the memory. We'd been recently expelled for getting into fights in school. Mom had cared little about how we'd beaten a boy twice our size so badly he had a concussion and was in the hospital and the boy's parent had called her a few unflattering names.

I'd electrocuted that woman. It was history though.

"I'm ashamed of her," said Thalia miserably. "Why can't she grow up? I feel like _we_'re her parents!" I glanced away, I agreed and I was similarly frustrated. "I was just thinking we can leave to teach her a lesson. Once we're not here to take care of her, we'll see if she appreciates us more or not."

"That sounds like a good plan," I muttered. "But Jason's too young. Maybe in a few years."

Thalia huffed and stormed over to our bed, crawling under the covers and proceeded to ignore her brothers. I caught mutters about 'idiot' and 'jerk' but chose not to comment.

"Lia sad?" asked Jason, perturbed in his own way; his lips were pushed into a pout.

"She'll come around," I promised. "Because we're family."

**. . .**

* * *

><p><strong>(Updated: 3 December, 2014)<strong>

**Question: **Regardless of slash, race or gender, who do you think is compatible with Teddy? It doesn't necessarily mean there'd be pairings though I do wonder if people would want a sprinkle of romance (it won't be the center of the story though).

**Review!**

...


	5. IV

**Percy Jackson & The Olympians © Rick Riordan**

* * *

><p><strong>. . .<strong>

**Your Saving Grace  
><strong>by GaleSynch

**Chapter 4  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Happy birthday, Jason!"<p>

My little brother let out a delighted laugh as sparks ricocheted from my fingers to the spot above his head, showering him in sparks; the scent of ozone permeated the air. It still amazed me sometimes that I could do just by grasping for the feeling of buzzes in in the tips of my fingers.

The prize I would have to pay for this powers always pop the inflation of my elation. I hated feeling so torn-up over a simple ability sometimes: to be able to control the winds and electricity and the price was an early death.

"Here you go," said Thalia, breaking me out of my reverie, smiling as she handed our brother a hastily-wrapped present. It was better than my attempt which consisted of newspaper and concealing a box within a box and continuing in this vein until Jason burst into tears ... sadistic? Maybe, but there was no denying that it would be fun.

"I've got the cake," said Beryl listlessly, entering the living room and handing each of us a slice of cake. Thalia accepted hers with a stiff gratitude and our mother flopped down on the remaining couch without a word.

"Say thank you to Mummy, Jason," I prompted. I'd came to accept the fact that—sadly—I would have to be the one to teach Jason politeness. Neither Mom nor Thalia were very polite and living in a world where you'd constantly encounter touchy immortal gods who could smite you with a bat of their eyelash, it would be too easy to offend them and get yourself cursed.

Jason's brows furrowed. "Why?"

"Because it's only polite," answered Thalia in my stead. "Now say it."

"Hypocrite," I muttered under my breath; my twin heard me and she elbowed my ribs painfully. I retaliated by pinching her.

"Thank you, Mummy," said the son of Jupiter obligingly.

Beryl smiled painfully: there was something off about her today. I squinted at my mother, trying to spot whatever was wrong. I'd inherited a lot of my looks from her: blonde ringlets that fell to frame an oval-shaped face, slightly upturned nose, thin lips and less-prominent cheekbones. Only my eyes were similar to my father's and, by extension, Thalia.

I wrinkled my nose, unsure if I should be unhappy or glad that I'd still looked girly enough to pass as a girl. I went for gender-neutral clothes in contrast to Thalia's punk-style.

I felt that no one would believe us if we said we were conjoined twins: we were just too different. It was a good thing or else we would've throttled one another long ago.

Mom didn't wear makeup, not unusual, she was beautiful without it and she knew it. She was nearing her thirties but she looked younger; she was barely nineteen when she gave birth to Thalia and I. Thinking about how young she was when we were born made me wince: not every girl could cope with that, especially since she was a TV star.

"Mom, have you been losing sleep lately?" I asked.

As furious as Thalia was with our mother, she still darted a glance at Beryl to make sure she was OK. I refrained from rolling my eyes. "I'm thinking about taking a vacation... as..." She sounded strangled. "You know, to celebrate Jay's birthday."

I grinned, glad that she was making an effort. "That's wonderful! When are we going?"

"Tomorrow, I think."

Then she left the living room, stumbling as she did so, beer bottle clutched tightly in hand.

Thalia cornered me after that. "Something's wrong. I don't think we should go on this trip. Tell Mom to stop."

"Why?"

"Because Mom likes you best," said Thalia, the bite of impatience in her voice not entirely masking the bitterness.

"No," I said, deciding not to reason with Thalia about that: I didn't think Thalia would buy whatever I said when Beryl talked more to me than to Thalia. My twin didn't seem to realize that it was every attempt at conversation Beryl made was shot down or ended in a spectacular argument that pushed those two further away from one another. "I meant what makes you think that this is a bad idea? Jason's happy!"

"Teddy, I know you very well."

I arched a brow in challenge. "Really." Thalia was smart, but I felt that she didn't really know me as well as I knew her.

"Sometimes... you're... delusional." Her voice cracked; I stared. "You only see what you want to see. You know Mom's losing her sanity and grip on life and you chose to ignore it. You know that this is a bad idea but because you want to believe everything's alright, you don't acknowledge it. We should've left Mom to her own devices years ago!"

"Lia, you say that, but you're as selfish as Mom," I piped in angrily. I did not react very well when I was criticized; my obituary would never say I was an open-minded person or one who openly accepted his flaws. "You think it's easy to always be on the run? That's naive. You want to run because you want to be free of responsibilities— how different is that from Mom?" I saw hurt flash across her electric blue eyes and instantly felt guilty. "Thalia, I —" She cut across me.

"Save it, Teddy." Her voice was thick, eyes bright with unshed tears. Or it could've been the artificial lighting from the ceiling. Oh, wait. Thalia said I was delusional, always trying to make things look bright despite the real situation. Fine. She wants realistic? She looked like she wanted to cry and I was sure my stony expression was part of the reason. "You and Mom can go, but I'm not going."

"Even if it's to make sure we're OK?" I asked, voice tight. My face screamed, _selfish!_ but I kept the thought to myself. My patience was running thin. Thalia's expression clouded with bitterness.

"Sis, something wrong?" asked Jason, looking away from the television when electricity cackled in the space between our glares.

She did not answer. Thalia kept up a stony silence for the rest of the day, seriously putting a hamper on Jason's day because the two-year-old kept asking about her. "Leave me alone!" said Thalia as she slammed our bedroom door.

I scowled. "Ignore her, Jay." Jason sniffled, unused to such harsh treatment from his beloved older sister. Me? I was used to her explosive temper. "I'll read you Greek myths about our dad," I offered and he toddled over.

My anger melted and I smiled, wishing that Mom and Thalia could be here as well.

We started the next morning with a stormy mood: Mom slammed the door shut once Jason and I had left. Thalia stuck to her decision to not follow even though Mom had insisted (for reasons beyond me). She was right. There was a sense of foreboding within me that warned me against following Mom. Above us, the sky was grey and cloudy: a storm was coming.

I got into the backseat with Jason who looked quite upset about Thalia's absence but because our mother was already in a bad mood and mentioning our sister's name would only worsen her mood, he kept his mouth shut. Smart guy with good instincts; he'd live a long, healthy life.

"Mom," I spoke tentatively as we exited the car. "Are you sure about this? It looks like it's about to rain." Not that I would be averse to that. I love this sort of weathers: wind drawing my hair to dance a ballad in front of my face, lightning flashing—Dad watching over us.

"Don't worry about it, Teddy," said Beryl; she was facing away from me.

Thunder rumbled, rolling in the clouds. Jason made a noise of discomfort, shifting in my arms. He was obviously ADHD as well. "Scary," he mumbled. "Want Lia."

"Never be scared of thunder, Jason," said Beryl, reaching over to take him. Jason glanced at her curiously, as did I, Mom rarely initiated contact with her youngest child. "That's your father telling you he loves the three of you. See?" Lightning was flashing, the sky seemed to be rumbling in agreement. Back turned to me, Mom said, "Teddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you go get the picnic basket for me?" She requested sweetly.

"...We're having a picnic? I thought this was just an outing... a walk around..." I glanced around. There were very few people around here. A couple jogged past us but otherwise, no one but the Grace Family. Unease crawled up my chest and settled there.

"_Thaddeus_," she said.

"OK, OK," I mumbled. "Don't get your panties into a twist over that." I shrugged off my hoodie and handed it to her. "Jason's just wearing a thin shirt. This should warm him up." Wind blowing my shirt, I turned and sauntered back to the car. I scowled when I realized she hadn't locked the car after we left—then chided myself for not noticing earlier, what if the car was stolen? I glanced in the window, noting that the seat beside Mom's usual seat was empty. But the car boot had nothing either.

Ice curled in my gut. I didn't even bother closing the car boot before I took off running. "Mom!" I yelled. "Mom! Jason!" I plunged through the trees, ignoring how many roots I'd tripped over as I took the shortcut to where we'd chosen as our picnic spot.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

A faint, distant memory was trickling back alongside panic: of Jason being taken away by Juno and how it was the final straw for Thalia. "Mom!" I burst through the trees, a sob caught in my throat. The picnic blanket was devoid of anything and it seemed to be on the verge of being blown away. I ignored it. "Jason!"

I was about to run right into the forest when my mother stumbled out, noticeably alone. "Where's Jason?" I demanded, voice tight with barely controlled panic.

"Gone," she whispered hollowly; her cobalt eyes were bright with tears. She suddenly reminded me very much of Thalia. "He's gone. He's dead." Then she broke down sobbing, unable to even stand, she sat down at the stone steps.

"What!" I yelled. "Who took him?!"

_I'm the champion of Juno_, Jason had introduced himself as in the books.

Hera.

I let out a frustrated scream; electricity rolling off me in waves.

That was when the skies started pouring.

**. . .**

It took awhile to coax Beryl back to the car and by the time I succeeded, we were thoroughly soaked. She was wiping tears and the rain created a ruckus as it pounded on our car. It was a dangerous weather to drive in but Mom drove anyway: when had she ever listened to me? Scratch that, when had _anyone_ ever listened to me?

"How are we going to tell Thalia?" I muttered. Then felt ill with guilt. I'd been worried about what Thalia will do to _me_ once she found out about this instead of worrying about what will happen to Jason. I slumped forward in my seat with a groan. "I'm a terrible brother."

"No, Teddy," said Beryl; she was looking at me through watery eyes instead of keeping her concentration on the road. "You're a good brother. You did better than I did." There was a sort of fiery pride in her eyes that made me deeply ashamed.

"Mom, tell me— what happened?"

Beryl's knuckles were white on the wheel; she shook her head. "He's as good as gone in that she-demon's hands."

"So he _was_ taken away! Why did you give him up?" I knew it was unfair to unload all the blame and anger on her but I wanted to badly punch something. I wished the school bullies lurked around our neighborhood; I could've used them as a stress-relief.

"I have to," Beryl sobbed. "Zeus was right. Three of his children in one household is too much." She did not elaborate so I assumed it was our scent that was getting overbearing.

The drive back home was silent. I didn't cry because I knew Jason would turn out alright in the end but my heart ached. My arms were empty without the comforting weight of my brother and my ears rang in the deafening atmosphere lacking my baby brother's laughter. I thought about Thalia and worried about Mom. Beryl had gone oddly quiet as we reached home: her face was blank and her hand was cold in my own as I guided her to the elevator and up to our apartment.

"Thalia?" I called once I'd unlocked the door. No one answered. She wasn't still mad was she? "I'd make you a drink," I told Mom as I moved into the kitchen.

Mom was silent, accepting the mug of coffee without a word. I knocked on the door. "Lia?" No answer. I turned the doorknob and looked inside. "Thalia?" My heart stopped: there was no one in there and the bed was made. I noticed my pencil case pressing onto a note.

The handwriting was terrible but I knew it was my sister's. I hoped it was a note telling me that she'd be going to a grocery store, but no, no it wasn't. It was a hundred times worse. If I thought I couldn't feel anymore devastated, I was about to be proven wrong.

_I'm leaving. I can't take Mom anymore and you're absolutely right: I am selfish. I want you to come with me but I didn't think about how you'd feel. I know you're probably tired of my arguments with Mom and since Mom isn't leaving anytime soon, I get it: I have the solution, I'm going out in the real world to grow up._

_So I'm going alone. Don't bother coming to find me. Take care of Jason. I love you._

_Love,_  
><em>Thalia<em>

I stared, read the note again and again and again, feeling as if the world had been torn from beneath me in a span of seconds.

**. . .**

I wanted to run after Thalia but there was Beryl to think about and I didn't know how long it'd been since she left. So I sat in the living room, beside my mother, and waited for the rain to stop for me to enact my plan.

"Where's Thalia?" asked Beryl thickly. Her voice was slightly muffled as she had her face cupped with both hands.

"Gone. She ran away from home."

Beryl sobbed and before I knew it, she'd wrapped me in her arms and clung to me, sobbing her heart and eyes out. I held onto her as tightly, trying to comfort her: losing two children in one day could take its toll even though she didn't seem to care much.

"Teddy, Teddy, you mustn't leave. Don't leave me alone... I can't take it..."

Mom cried herself to sleep.

I was an adult in a child's body, I didn't need anyone to comfort me, but I allowed myself to think of how selfish Beryl Grace was: she asked me for comfort without thinking whether or not her son needed the comfort.

Like I said, my feelings towards my mother was complicated.

I (liked to) think she loved us in her own way, but she also hated us for ruining her career and life as well. I felt the same: I loved her for giving me a second chance at life but I hated her for being such an irresponsible mother that required me to be her parent.

But I also knew I couldn't abandon Thalia. Beryl acted like a child but she was an adult; Thalia was the real child who needed comfort. I need to get Beryl out of my way, in a safe place where she wouldn't be harmed by herself or Hera, then only will I be able to look for Thalia without being weighed down by worry.

The answer came to me in a dream.

**. . .**

Beryl was—completely—sober when I said, "Mom, I have a clue where they took Jason!" Then I started explaining the nature of demigod dreams to her. She bought it completely: Beryl was never the best when it came to being a lie-detector and I cropped lies between truths.

We booked a plane for Las Vegas and flew there the next day. I have absolutely no idea how I was going to get back to Los Angels but just in case, I'd packed clothes, provisions and money. The last was particularly important because this whole operated that way.

Conveniently, Mom knew nothing about what I'd packed.

The destination I had in mind? Lotus Hotel and Casino.

Mom had never heard of it. I had no idea where it was either, it was never properly described in the books. The cabbie was getting fed up with us but Mom's icy glare was enough to get him to keep us maneuvering around the city. "Mom, keep your eyes peeled. We can see through the Mist. You knew who Dad was on first glance, didn't you? Just concentrate on the aura he radiated."

"Turn left," Beryl said abruptly.

"Uh... that's a dead-end," said the driver.

"Drop us off there," she ordered.

The cabbie did as told and dropped us there; he looked quite upset that we didn't give him the amount of tips we'd implied we'd give. I offered him an apologetic grin: I needed all the money I had. "Is this place, Teddy? The one you saw in your dreams?" asked Beryl, sounding uncertain for the first time. "A hotel. What would Jason be doing here?"

"Don't ask me how the mind of immortals work," I said, slipping my hand into hers. I tugged her forward and we entered the hotel. I prayed that I'd be able to get out and I wouldn't get too distracted.

The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals luminescent and blinking continuously. No person was seen entering or exiting, yet the sparkling chrome doors were open. I wrinkled my nose at the scent of lotus blossoms filling my nostrils. I stole a glance at Beryl and saw her eyes glazing over; her cobalt orbs flickered about, taking in the place.

The welcoming doorman smiled. "Depressed? Not to worry—we can cure depression!" The worst thing was, he sounded so sincere I was terribly sorry I had to leave. He ushered us in before I could protest.

"Whoa," I said, which summed everything I saw. The lobby turned out to be a cavernous game room, games of every genre available: I could've spent years here and I wouldn't be able to finish playing everything! From the corner of my eye, I saw a water-slide which stumped me: there was a swimming pool in the middle of the lobby?

Before I could examine it, a bellhop approached us with a kind smile. "You look exhausted, kid. Mother and son, yes? I suppose you would want to be in the same room." He handed Mom the key and she took it gladly.

"Those look worth checking out, Teddy," my mother muttered distractedly. She was absentmindedly sampling a biscuit. "Mm. This is really good. You should try one, Teddy."

The waitress standing beside her flashed me blinding grin and I felt my cheeks heating up for reasons beyond me. I accepted the biscuit with a thanks.

"Here are your Lotus cards," the bellhop spoke, drawing my attention; he pressed a green, floral card into my hand. I examined it while Mom turned hers around in her hands. "If you have any problems, call the front desk. Welcome to the Lotus Casino," the man said with a wide grin before walking off to tend to other visitors.

The waitress was watching me with piercing eyes so I pretended to take a bite, trying to keep a clear head.

I wanted so badly to play those shooting games. I was sure I would ace it. "Come on, Teddy," said Beryl, laughing gleefully, as she dragged me further into the Lotus trap. I cast the exit a look of longing. "Let's enjoy ourselves!"

She'd completely forgotten about our purpose for coming here: to look for Jason, which was good for me because I'd lied about the whole thing.

If Hades thought this was a safe enough place for his kids, this place was definitely safe enough for Mom.

"Uh, Mom, I wanna go for a round... at the, er, water-slide. I'd see you later, OK? Go—" My breath caught. I coughed violently, prompting Mom to turn back to study me quizzically. "I mean—goodbye, Mummy."

Surprise flashed across her beautiful face—a face that would not be marred by age as long as she remained here, determination reinforced within me when I recalled that this was the best solution so far—for I had not called her by that term of endearment since I was a baby.

She was smiling sadly. As if she knew I didn't need her any longer even though the Lotus Flower was starting to take effect. Soon, very soon, she'd forget she was ever a lover of Zeus, she'd forget her children and former life: Beryl did not have the strength of character as Percy did to break free of the Lotus Dwellers, I knew it. "Goodbye, Taylor," she said, using the name I preferred the most for the first time since I could remember.

The fake smile was getting too painful to maintain: I darted in the direction of the swimming pool, glancing back and saw that my mother had been swallowed by the crowd, I couldn't see her any longer.

"What's with the tears, young man?" asked a kind, womanly voice and I turned to see another waitress with bunny ears.

My hand flew to my pendant, ready to draw it if necessary. "I'm—I'm not crying!" I protested. "I just... want to take a swim." I mumbled lamely.

"The swimming pool is over there," she offered, pointing to where about three dozen kids were splashing one another. She flashed me another smile. "Here, have a flower."

"Thanks." I stomped on the flower viciously the moment she was gone and before my mind could be completely tempted by the games and comforting life I would kill for, I took off running.

"Hey, kid!"

If anything, the bellhop's voice made me run harder. "Wait!" he wailed, sounding so heartbroken that I was leaving I felt guilty and tempted to stay.

I electrocuted myself to stomp that thought. My body was mostly immune to it, but I jarred myself by setting sparks off in front of my eyes. Good thing: I was anything but tempted to stay. Bad thing: I was seeing black spots, I could barely see where I was going.

The glass doors were so close— thirty feet — I dived out of the way and came up from a roll as the bellhop made a wild grab for me, he hollered for help and I saw several others rushing towards me — I kept running, ten feet— someone snagged my arm, I twisted and kicked his crotch, ducking a hard swipe and ran— five feet—

I summoned the wind, panicked at the thought of being trapped here forever, and a huge gust of wind from behind gave me the momentum I needed: I lurched forward, nearly flying out of the hotel.

Those Lotus Dwellers did not pursue; the chrome doors closed upon their icy glares. I breathed heavily, laying flat on my back on the street.

I did not cry, I did not cover my face and sob. I most certainly did not. I checked to make sure I had everything I needed: my weapon, the saber in Mist form hung constantly from around my neck: I was ready to leave.

I didn't know a lot of things despite my knowledge about the books but that was it: it was all about Percy and details about other demigods' life prior to the events taking place in the series were scarce at best. I remembered that Luke and Thalia found Annabeth in Richmond.

Had she even met Luke yet?

My stomach churned, I remembered that my sister had been on the run for two years before a satyr found her. I could do better. I'd find her this way.

Dad, I prayed, guide me to Thalia, please.

My back—years ago, I had been intimately connected to Thalia—throbbed and I took off running.

**. . .**

* * *

><p><span>Answer to guest reviewers:<span>_  
><em>

**Guest:**  
>If you want to see Taylor paired with Eros or Will, why did you think it was weird when you suggested it?<p>

**Electra:**  
>I've set up a voting poll. So vote there. :P<p>

**Guest:**  
>Taylor has ... self-delusional issues and he's pretty adaptable. It's partly explained in the first paragraph. About his fear of monsters, he worries, but he doesn't let it hang over his head always; he's content to live out this brief reprieve before worrying about his life. He's got to start facing it in next chapter though.<p>

**anna:**  
>Thanks! XD<p>

**Guest:**  
>I think ate up your reviews. I don't get the full message you're trying to send.<p>

**Guest:**  
>Hm, not sure about Annabeth. I don't really like Percabeth but it's an important part of the story, isn't it? Even if Taylor exists, how can he affect Annabeth's or Percy's attraction to one another unless he actively pursues one of them? And Taylor won't be making changes to things he feels should stay the same.<p>

**Smartybrains:**  
>Taylor might not be able to stand her, lol. Thalia's a separate matter, Taylor may think Clarisse's too obnoxious for his liking.<p>

**Guest2:**  
>We'll see about those two you suggested. :P<p>

**AvidReader98:**  
>I'll def finish this story - since the PJO and HoO series are done anyway, so there'll be nothing uncertain. I'm really glad you like his character, lol.<p>

**Grecianvalley:**  
>You gave tons of suggestions: still, remember to vote!<p>

**Moreplease:**  
>No, you can vote in the poll. If the immortal choice is majority, there'll be a separate poll. Thanks for reviewing. :P<p>

**Guest:**  
>Good point. n.n<p>

* * *

><p><strong>-0-<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Who saw that coming? 0.0<em>

_About the pairings, I haven't made a decision yet. You can vote in my profile for the choices available there._

**Question:** Whose lives do you want to see saved?


	6. V

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything you recognize. Well, except for Taylor, of course.

**Your Saving Grace  
><strong>by GaleSynch

**V**

**.**

"Kid." I looked up from the menu, blinking languidly. The waitress was scowling suspiciously down at me. "Are you sure you have the money to pay?"

"Yes," I answered, mildly annoyed at that tone and look she was giving me.

"Where're your parents?"

"Aren't you here to take my order?" I snapped; my stomach growled. "I want the breakfast special."

The lady opened her mouth to argue but another waitress approached us. Her name-tag read: LAME. I assumed this was my dyslexia because there was no way a mother would name their daughter this way. "Come now, Annie, just let the kid eat whatever he orders."

Annie the waitress tossed me a distasteful look but stormed off to do as told. I snorted, closing the menu and pushing it to the remaining waitress. "What're you looking at?" I asked defensively, unintentionally sounding rude. But I didn't care: I hadn't had the best sleep, the asphalt was not a good bed. I didn't even know where I was.

"Oh, nothing dear, I was just thinking what beautiful blue eyes you have!" She chirped, eyes flickering. I blinked. "They're bluer than the Aegean sea—your father's eyes, I believe!"

My blood ran cold. I looked up and gape: her eyes were the first to change. Her irises expanded, glowing dark green. Her pupils narrowed into serpentine slits. She extended a hand and immediately her fingers shriveled and hardened, her nails turning into lizard-like claws.

"What sort of monster is called Lame?" I asked stupidly.

"Lamia!" she howled. "My name's Lamia!"

"Sounds like lame, I get it," I mumbled, glancing around: the mortals didn't even seem to sense something was wrong. I reached for my pendant, ripping it off and in an instant, a three-foot long Celestial bronze saber was in my hand.

Lamia struck, I parried but her strength was overwhelming: she sent me tumbling over the table and onto the ground. I yelped in pain as she gripped the table and lifted it, intending on slamming it down on me full-force. "Yes, we'll have demigod pancake!"

I scrambled out of the way.

I wanted pancake and maple syrup, not some Zeus-flavored snack, which would be made of me so I wouldn't be able to taste it anyway.

I marveled at demigod ADHD: I still had time to think stupid thoughts like these and I was impressed with myself. The truth? I was spouting rubbish in my mind to stop myself from panicking completely. This was a real fight; this was a real monster; I could really die.

Not even a day out on my own and I was already attacked, I thought bitterly. And I had no backup and no help and no means to heal myself if I was injured—wasn't this an ideal situation? I climbed onto the seat and jumped to the other booth. The mortals yelped and scattered, finally noticing that something was wrong.

"Sorry!" I cried as I scrambled to the entrance-exit. This tiny cafe was too crowded for me to fight properly.

Sadly, my luck was not good enough for me to make it. Lamia screamed in rage and threw herself at me. She tackled me to the ground and I hit the ground hard; pain flared from the front of my body. My grip on the saber did not relent; blindly, I reversed my grip, stabbed and twisted my saber. A howl and the sound of soft flesh hitting cement told me I'd sliced her arm off. Black powder poured from her wound instead of blood.

I bucked hard enough for her to arch off the ground. I twisted and swung my saber. The scene that took place would be recurring in my nightmares: my saber slice through her head and off, her head falling onto my chest and the rest of her body evaporating into black powder that rained down on me.

I spat a mouthful of dust out of my mouth, staggering to my feet, weak-kneed from the fight.

I'd won. Unbelievable.

But I had more pressing matters than marvel that I'd beaten a monster.

I saw the mortals staring in horror at me: "Someone, call the police!" cried a woman. Those nutters probably saw an axe-wielding kid killing a waitress.

I ran for it: breakfast would have to come later.

.

It wasn't until the first snowflake fell that I registered my birthday would be soon. I'd been on the run for a couple of months (days, weeks, years, did it matter?), losing track of time, running from the authorities and monsters. I would be ten soon. Or twenty-nine if you want to be technical.

I was lonely.

I'd also taken to practicing controlling air, mostly to levitate items out of stores or from hawkers for food, necessities and clothes. My existence was very pathetic: I bathed occasionally in public toilets using the pipe and I realized then I'd hit all times low.

Barely ten and I was starting to think I'd seen every sort of monster there was in Greek mythology. It wasn't as bad as I expected, which worried me somewhat. Since they didn't focus on me, I feared Hades would concentrate on Thalia. I worried my lip.

I was relieved, of course I was, that he concentrated his efforts on her. Then I was worried sick: what if something happened?

"Argh! Poop!"

I jumped, backing away from the angry man in the business suit. I glanced at his feet and failed to suppress a snort. I was mildly annoyed: Hera had sent intestinal-challenged cows to bug me, nothing big, I just happened to step on cow poop once in awhile. It was funny in a way but the stench often clung to me and made mortals give me wide berth.

I didn't get why the gods could curse heroes so easily and they couldn't help their kids as easily.

I sighed, lots of things didn't make sense to me. I wish Dad had given me a guide on how to be a demigod. Or at least a map. I have no idea where I was; all I knew was that I was out of Las Vegas. Was I even in the same _state_ anymore?

My heart ached, I missed Mom, Jason and Thalia. It was sad, the Grace family of four had broken apart, each member in different parts of the country. I had a vague destination in mind: San Francisco. If I could go to the Roman Camp... but what repercussions would await me?

I was Greek, not Roman and the Lares had the ability to sniff out _graecus_ scum as they'd so kindly put it. Best case scenario: I was killed and head placed on a pike. Worst case scenario: they tortured me or ... I dunno, something bad.

"What're you staring at, kid? Hit the road!"

I grinned and sauntered off, turning down the street. I'd quite forgotten what it was to be an ordinary mortal: a human who could enjoy life and just worry about how many zits I'd have on my face. Speaking of appearance, my hair was getting too long for my liking.

I'd stolen a cap to cover my face though. Just a week ago, I had snatched a lady's handbag and flew away from the mortals. I had no idea what the mortals saw but I left it up to the Mist to decide that they saw. However, just in case, I hid my face as much as possible.

I was not above thievery if it meant survival.

It was just... a very lonely and sad existence filled with—

The howl of a hellhound rent the air, the mortals around me didn't even blink at that sound— I let out an annoyed growl. A life filled with monsters: not cool as it sounds. You think it's fun to keep running every mile and see a monster or concerned adults stopping you then calling the police on you?

Those Roman kids had it so much better it _wasn't_ fair.

Suppressing a sniffle, I turned and charged straight for the hellhound. Life as a demigod, the sooner you face it, the better.

.

I was at a beach: a freaking seaside, the sun was beating on my fair skin. How the Hades did I get here? Last time I checked, I was in the state of Utah. I'd decided to just head for Camp Half-Blood which was somewhere in Long Island. I'd covered so much ground because I had harnessed the wind spirits to lift me into the skies: flying drains me easily but it was much better than walking. I had also taken to sleeping on rooftops, because the chances of being mugged by mortal beggars was much-lesser.

I shuddered as I recalled the last time I had a run-in with a mortal.

They were much harder to fight because my saber did little against them: I could just intimidate them with it, stun them enough to electrocute them into oblivion.

"Over here, boy," said a man's voice.

I jumped, whirling around to see a man somewhere in his thirties: he was dressed in a Hawaiian tea-shirt and he was holding a fishing rod like a sword. "Hey," I greeted lamely then looked around. "Is this a dream?"

"Yes, it is," he answered; I turned to look him in the eye. His eyes, I noticed, were a brilliant shade of sea-green. The brightest and prettiest shade of green I'd ever seen: I liked it. "Thank you, I think your eyes are something to stare at, as well. But they're too much like Zeus's for me to be comfortable thinking they're beautiful."

I gaped at him, horrified. "You can read minds?"

"You were being very blatant in your staring," he responded, lips quirking. "Do you know who I am?"

"Lord Poseidon?" Belatedly, I sank into an awkward bow. "Sorry. I didn't notice until now. Is there anything I can do for you?" I flashed him the most pleasant smile in my arsenal even though I was nervous as heck. There was no saying what he could do.

"I just wanted to see Zeus's children for myself. Hera's in a royal snit, she's out to get you, just so you know. Very recently, I saw her looking down at you and your sister from Olympus. You don't look like Zeus much."

"Is that bad?" I asked.

"No. But it's what inside that matters," said Poseidon, eyeing me critically. I didn't know what he was thinking. "I'm assuming you look like your mother."

I nodded. "I think so, too. Dad's much more... oh, manly." My expression soured at the many mistakes mortals had made. If it wasn't kid or brat or rascal, it was _hey, girlie!_

Unexpectedly, my uncle chuckled, startling me. "It is to my belief that is why Hera despises you so much: a physical likeness to embody her husband breaking his vows. Beware, she sends monsters only the strongest of heroes have slain before."

My heart hitched. "I... thank you... for tipping me off. I owe you one?" I hoped he wouldn't ask for something impossible.

He sent me a piercing look. "I will claim my debt someday." Then he, along with the dream, dissolved and I woke in cold sweat. I didn't stop to admire the night sky and the stars twinkling down at me.

I grabbed my bag and did what I had perfected into an art form: I ran for my life.

.

I was jumpy the whole way out of the state of Utah. I wish I had enough money to buy airplane tickets but no, I spent most of it on food and the occasional rest house. I'd '_borrowed_' a couple of bicycles but not cars, I was too young to pull it off and getting arrested was not very appealing to me.

By now, I'd committed so much thievery I might as well be a son of Hermes.

I'd woken up at dawn and now, it was way past noon. I was tired but I couldn't find a relatively safe place to rest. I considered sleeping in an abandoned alleyway but a police officer walked by, gave me a suspicious glare, and I took off running down another lane.

I sat down, legs aching from hours of walking and running and heaved a sigh. I massaged my legs through my worn, ripped-up jeans as I wondered how my family was doing.

Thalia had probably met Luke by now. Jason was still training and Mom was enjoying herself in the Lotus Hotel and Casino. Basically, I was the only one in trouble, stranded and without help. Granted, it would seem as if I was enjoying myself since I took the time to check out historical sites, museums, gift shops and shopping malls (in search of clean bathrooms) or just to kip out under a roof.

I was slightly pissed that there were no satyrs that could sniff me out when the monsters found me like, routinely, every three to four hours, one would pop up. The worst sort of fights were at night when I was so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes opened and I just passed out on a swing—I'd woken up to a hellhound slobbering my face with saliva. Those satyrs were useless! Ugh—

Screams erupted from all sides.

Bewildered, I sprang to my feet, ripping my pendant from where it rested and felt the familiar, comforting weight of my saber in my palm the next second. I waited, tense.

Cars horned and pedestrians were running in every direction, panic spreading among them. I gaped: finally, what monster had caused such chaos showed itself. It was a boar—at least I think it _is_ a boar—but it was nearly fifteen feet tall, its tusks were as long as oak trees.

Its angry, red eyes zeroed in on me.

My ADHD mind wondered, off-task, why animals always froze in pure, unadulterated terror. Wouldn't it only be the right action to run? I reminded myself that I was acting like a cornered animal in those sort of situations and right now, I couldn't run, I was rooted to the spot.

Why? The hopelessness that engulfed me was the answer. I only had a vague idea about what monster this was and I already knew that I couldn't beat it—not alone, so what was the point in running? Wouldn't it be easier to just get it over with?

"It's a boar!" a teenager cried.

I backtracked quickly, tackling the blonde teen as the boar charged at us. We dived into the alleyway as the pavement cracked where the boar had thundered through. "You!" I gasped. "What sort of animal is that?" I demanded, eyes wild so I probably looked like a lunatic to him.

The teenager looked thrown. "It's... it's not normal..."

"I get it, genius!" I yelled. "It's from Greek myths! What is this monster called?"

"Well," he spluttered. "There's the Erymanthian Boar Hercules killed, there're couple of sows and one boar from the Calydonian Hunt."

Something clicked. "The last one— didn't it took a hundred of hunters to kill?" Ice spread into every pore of my being as the teenager nodded.

"Wait, that thing— it can't be the one from the Greek stories!" So he was mortal. No demigod could live to such age. I didn't grace him with an answer. Not that I didn't want to: it was the fact that the Calydonian Boar came charging into the alleyway.

I seized the teen and concentrated: I shot off the ground and into air, trying valiantly to not drop the mortal. But I was too drained to do anything more than move us out of the way. We fell, bumping on air, until we landed painfully on top of asphalt.

"Get out of here!" I shouted.

"What about you?" he asked, eyes wild. He probably wasn't used to flying kids popping up.

Fighting was a no-go; it was too quick and strong for me and I certainly did not look forward to getting close to it. My saber was like a toothpick next to it. The mortal took off running; I turned in another direction and ran that way. I didn't turn to look or falter in my steps but I heard the Boar plowing down buildings like it was nobody's business.

This was not a heroic thing to do: ignoring the mortals' screaming and fleeing when the Boar would stop after it had gored me into demigod-sauce.

_If I had something that could help me_, I prayed silently, thinking of Dad and the hug he gave me the last time I saw him; _something that could get me close to the boar and avoid getting trampled at the same time, I could help._

Nothing happened at first. But then I heard thunder clapping and lightning flashing above head; ozone filled my nostrils and cackling electricity prompted me to turn to my side to see what was happening. There was a mini storm happening: dark storm-cloud bodies and manes crackling with electricity, I saw what seemed to be horses within the tornado.

I extended a hand, gasping for breath; I felt my fingers tingle—pins and needles—as an invisible crack like a whip sounded an the storm-spirit neighed, kicking its legs but unable to free itself as it became more corporeal. I jumped, pirouetted and landed on its back. The storm spirit when crazy, I felt my head splitting in ache—the spirit's chaotic thoughts colliding with my own panicked thoughts—and the only thing keeping me on the creature was the whip made entirely out of pure air atoms.

"You're mine now," I told it and tried to believe the words with every fiber of my being. If I faltered, my control would slip and this chaotic spirit would not obey me.

Dad had given him to me. He'd answered my prayers for help: the rest was up to me. Electricity rolled off the storm spirit in waves, energizing me; he was a good partner.

The familiar sting of electricity got my head into the game; I turned to see the boar bearing down on me. Thinking _this is suicide_, I nudged the horse and despite its reluctance, it charged right at the larger monster.

The horse was not just a ride; every time the boar's hooves got dangerously close, it reared its hind legs (that nearly threw me off) and arced enough volts of electricity to send the boar rearing sideways.

We were still destroying the city by the way and I could feel the horse's impatience that so far, we only accomplished to not die. I couldn't talk to it like children of Poseidon could, but I could feel its thoughts: this spirit wanted pork meat. I had my reservations but dodging would not help.

I urged the horse forward, seizing the opportunity as the boar was still busy razing down the building to free its tusks; the horse skidded around, I swung my saber: severing its leg and blood poured like a fountain. The boar roared (maybe, it certainly didn't snort) in anguish, collapsing sideways.

I didn't know where to cut.

My spirit solved that for me by tossing its head, arrogantly, and looked pointedly at the boar's head. How'd you butcher a pig? I'd never pork in this entire life and I'd certainly never prepared it either. I jumped off the horse, shaking slightly, and told it to stay put as I approached the thrashing boar.

With a leap, aided by the wind, I landed on its neck and I stabbed downwards; it was cruel, I know, but I stabbed deeper and dragged it down, severing a third of its head.

But it was more than enough: the boar burst into bronze dust, raining down like confetti so celebrate my victory over it.

"Thanks, boy," I told the storm spirit and the burst of electricity it unleashed would've killed me if I was not a son of Zeus. "What?" I asked, startled. I though we'd bonded quite well. The storm spirit gave me its equivalent of, _You idiot!_ and realization dawned. "Oh," I muttered. "You're a girl. What should I call you?"

Before I could come to a conclusion, I was alerted by police sirens blaring. I mounted my storm spirit; my panic coursed through it and the she-spirit took off.

The world twisted and blurred together into blobs of colors as the storm spirit thundered away. Pretty soon, I glanced back only to see the skyscrapers of the city.

It was a couple of hours later that I came up with a suitable name.

Aellai; that was the name I'd christened the storm spirit with and from how she whinnied in agreement, she liked it. I rode on her back until night fell; we sped past mortal vehicles and I doubted they even saw what had outran them. My control over her loosened; she still disliked being bound in this corporeal form of a horse but since I had no destination in mind, it was chaotic enough to keep her going.

She liked running wild, you see.

Aellai neighed, drawing my sleepy attention. "Hn?" I paused, trying to decipher what she was trying to say. "I'm looking for someone... but if it keeps you happy, you can bring me to wherever for now."

Then I fell dead asleep on her back.

**.**

* * *

><p><strong>(AN):<strong> Well, the poll will be ending soon: the majority is the gods. But the runner-ups would be side-pairings I suppose; brief relationships that ended up nowhere.

Also, I've started a new PJO SI, about a monster!SI.

**Question:** How likely it is for Thalia and Annabeth to join the Dark/Titan side?

**Review!**


	7. Extra: Unsung Heroes

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything. / **Warnings:** This is not canon to the storyline. This is a birthday gift for Moka-girl and a spin-off the original story. Hope you enjoy! XD

**Your Saving Grace  
><strong>by GaleSynch

.

**omake  
><strong>_for the beautiful and awesome Moka-girl_

. . .

Taylor'd do anything to protect his loved ones, even if fighting evil means being evil itself. Taylor doesn't think he is evil, nor has he ever been cruel. He can't stomach cruelty, in fact, and he is always disgusted by those who kills others in the name of revenge or just because they can.

The son of Zeus has been puzzling how he can evade heartbreak on Thalia's part. Luke Castellan's the catalyst to the beginning. Gaia is rising. Time's ticking. Taylor can't hesitate anymore.

"Luke," he says, "can you accompany me for a moment?"

The son of Hermes looks up at him with innocent, blue eyes—they'd be gold someday and it enforces Taylor's belief that he is doing the right thing.

Luck is on his side: monsters attack the moment Thalia and Alabaster are far away enough. In fact, Taylor's half-baked plan goes off without a hitch. It's too suspicious and when the monsters continue to attack only Luke, even when Taylor is only ten feet away and he is completely ignored, he knows that there's some divine intervention going on here.

"Taylo—" Luke's ice blue eyes are goldgoldgold—and that color utterly sickens Taylor as he thinks of Kronos taking over the boy's body—and before he's aware that he's moved, he's slid his saber through skin and the gaps of the other demigod's ribcage, fascinated—no, sickened—by how easily skin can give away beneath his force. It's easy, once Taylor thinks of Thalia's face stiff with grief at his betrayal, and how he's wasted her sacrifice and chases her to join the Hunters. The pain of so many others in the future seems to be the driving force, not Taylor's hand, that pierces the organ beneath the left chest.

"That won't stall the repeating of history forever," comments someone cheerfully. Taylor starts and springs to his feet, saber brutally ripped from his sister's best friend's chest and spraying blood all over, to be pointed at the blonde male. Taylor's hands tremble. Luke's dead. There's no way this man can be— "Oh, I think you know who I am. But I'm incognito. Call me Fred, little champion of the Fates."

"Champion of the _what_?"

'Fred' dutifully ignores him. Something stirs in Taylor's gut when he sees how Fred is smiling even when his nephew is dying, dead. "I wonder what made them choose you," he says nonchalantly, "is it because you can kill however many people just to protect someone?"

Thalia's face flash to mind. Taylor narrows his eyes. "Nobody messes with my sister, nobody."

"I think we're on the same page, that's good. So, tell me, about this vision I see of my sister being chained and her tears?" His smile can kill.

Taylor knows who he is and he's surprised that he hasn't been struck dead for murder. But he supposes, disdainfully, that immortal deities don't view mortal lives as significant enough for Taylor to be punished. Or Fred sees the bigger picture. That he isn't protesting assures Taylor that he is doing the right thing: winning the battle with no war.

"Luke's dead," Taylor states, as if he isn't the one to ensure that, "so I don't think the Titans would rise anytime soon. It's Gaia we have to worry about."

Fred pushes his sunglasses away and his emerald eyes are extremely bright, Taylor notes. "I believe I'm obligated to help."

"Why?" Taylor asks suspiciously.

"You don't ignore a direct order from the Fates, man."

That's enough for Taylor to release some of his suspicions. "For now, I think I need to assure my sister that I'm not dead."

"You also need to put on a convincing act." Fred looks Taylor up and down. "Not even a single scratch. She won't believe you even if you're in tears that monsters have attacked you."

"What do you suggest then, _Fred_?" Taylor snorts derisively when he says that alias.

Fred seizes his arm, grip bruising his skin, and hauls him into the alleyway. Taylor's heart performs multiple somersaults as he struggles, suddenly aware that Fred towers over him easily and has already overpowered him. His half-brother's breath is hot against his cheek, on the shell of his ear, as he whispers, "There are monsters in humans and gods alike, you know? But, for the sake of argument, let's say I'm the former, alright?" Fred practically purrs this before his mouth covers his.

Taylor freezes, in sharp contradiction to what Fred can actually do, when he sheds that stupid disguise and name. Fred's teeth nip briefly at Taylor's lips, hard enough to draw blood and bruise his lips. Taylor's no longer moving but the other is: hands gripping his hips, biceps, covering any expanse of exposed skin, leaving scorching marks and —

Taylor finally wrenches away, electricity shredding air between them. His eyes are watery from the lack of breath and he's practically on fire.

He flees, Fred's laughter ringing in his ears, and the sensation of lips against his lingering.

Maybe it's because he can't blink or he's so stunned by recent events that Thalia actually believes that he's been traumatized. Lies tumble from Taylor's lips, awkward and halting, but Thalia's rage and grief pours over the words, melting them in the molten lava that is her grief, hatred and rage, she's screaming and raging and Alabaster's trembling.

Taylor does what he does best: he comforts her.

"It's going to be okay," he promises and it's the first sentence that is not a lie.

Thalia is clingy for the next few weeks and is frazzled by every stranger that glances their way. She jabs her spear in their faces when they come within five feet of the trio. It's not for another month before Taylor, already jittery and impatient to finish everything, sees his partner.

Fred grins good-naturedly when he sees him. "Yo, brother." He's not subtle when he looks Taylor up and down. "All healed up, I see."

"Thanks for traumatizing Thalia," says Taylor sourly, "she'll never believe in humanity ever again."

"Hey, it worked," says Fred, motioning for Taylor enter the crimson Maserati Spyder. Taylor does. Despite everything, he feels that he is safe ... at least, for awhile, in this entity's presence. Fred is bound by the Fates' order and Taylor is the Fates' toy. The boy knows that this is what he is meant to do: he can feel the certainty resting in his bones. Whether his ploy is futile or not, it is up to him to decide ... he _has_ to try. "Any detours?"

He means Jason. Probably. Taylor wants to see his brother, but only once he's succeeded. "I want a relaxing stroll in downtown Greece," he says sarcastically.

"Allow me the pleasure of showing you around," Fred returns cheerfully and Taylor can't taste the sarcasm as he revs the engine.

"Isn't this breaking the ancient laws?"

"The Fates set them," Fred points out. "If they send me here, that can't be breaking anything. Are _you_ on a quest?"

"No," answers Taylor truthfully, "I'm just doing what the Fates have intended for me to do."

Fred hums. "Want to hear a haiku?"

"Er, no thank—"

"Let me see ... _off to save the world_—"

"No!" Fred flashes him a cheeky grin.

Taylor would prefer it if they spend the trip in silence as the world speeds below them at an unnatural speed. He needs the time to plan. Apollo takes them to the skies, riding on the clouds. Fred's humming a tune that Taylor's never heard before but he suspects it's a bastardized version of a dirge. Taylor's lips tighten. "Can't our father see?" he asks instead of castigating his companion. "We're in his domain."

"Perhaps your patrons would be kind enough to shield us," says Apo—Fred, the first hint of uncertainty flickering in his eyes. The fact that he will be punished severely after the Giant War ends is enough incentive for him to do as Taylor suggests. Thunder rumbles. "Apparently not," he murmurs. "Hold on a sec, this'd be a hurling ride."

The illness that plagues Taylor is not caused by the ride on the sun chariot. It is Luke's face and eyes he sees in his nightmares. Taylor has been too preoccupied by Apollo to really think about Luke's death. By now, his body would've been found. Fred has promised that he's dealt with Luke's body but Taylor remains clueless to what he has done to the corpse.

Taylor does not regret anything though he feels some empty horror at Luke's death. Luke has suffered enough, he deserves the rest. He will be in Elysium, he will try for rebirth three times and maybe in their next life, Taylor can apologize properly.

Taylor is ashamed to admit he has no idea where to start and he has to rely on Fred to lead them. The whole world seems to be in darkness from the absence of the sun god.

"Is it alright to neglect your duties?" asks Taylor tentatively as Apollo offers him a cup of nectar.

"By now, someone will be offered a quest to find me," Fred says unhelpfully, "probably because Father tends to overreact. Oh, don't worry, I've put your traveling companions into stasis. Hecate's probably working overtime to cover up the loss of the sun. And dear ole' dad is probably thundering and sending rain everywhere to help. Ready?"

The abruptness of the questions raises Taylor's guard. "She's here ... beneath us?" Fear and uncertainty chase goosebumps down Taylor's skin.

"She can't manifest here, let's make it easier for her." Fred's suggestion is not sound in general for their safety but to complete the insane missions Taylor has assigned himself by taking a different route ... Fred takes Taylor's hand, stopping all the second thoughts.

Taylor wonders how things would drag out if he doesn't kill Luke. If he'd just wait and watch everything unfold the way it will in the books. What will happen if he lets someone else take charge and be the hero as they are meant to be. But that will make Taylor feel worthless.

He's been born here and he does nothing but watch and try to alleviate the severity of the situation? Perhaps that is his fatal flaw, the inability to step back, the self-importance that poisons his thoughts and his decisions. Fred's warm hand tells him that it is too late even if he wants to back out now.

Gaia's manifestation is weak. She cannot manage a gigantic form, she's just two feet taller than the sun god who is holding Taylor up as much as he is straining not to let terror conquer them both. Her eyes are barely open; her body and cloth are constructed of earth and dirt, there're mosses woven around her forehead like a diadem. Taylor's breath hitches: she's beautiful.

_What_, Mother Earth muses, _do I owe this pleasure of meeting the sons of the King that has stolen my son's throne?_

Taylor prays to Apollo that his sun chariot has grappling hooks. _It probably has_, murmurs Fred in his mind. It is not a reassuring answer. They both have walked on foot to lure her out and here she is and neither of them can act.

Taylor squeezes his brother's hand, trying to transmit his plan. One of them has to have the explosive power to utterly destroy her ability to manifest on the earth and it's obviously Apollo who has that power.

So someone needs to man the grappling hook.

Apollo's eyes flicker to Taylor and he nods imperceptibly. "I'll distract her," he whispers. "Dissatisfaction and plans to overthrow dad and all ... "

"Please don't let her poison your mind," Taylor begs, releasing his hold on his brother. "And the chariot is—"

"It's coming but it can only drive on autopilot. Every other feature must be manned."

In that instant Taylor turns, he notices the problem they have missed: an immortal cannot challenge another immortal. Taylor licks his dry lips. But 'Fred' is already approaching Gaia, laughing charmingly and spinning tales of sweet dreams and a glorious future.

Taylor runs for the chariot. He is glad that he is insignificant enough in Gaia's eyes that she doesn't even notice him leaving. Apollo does that: he dwarfs your existence but existing in his shadow has always been comforting to Taylor. The demigod does not waste time puzzling out how the chariot recognizes him and stops for him to clamber in but the car has many features he's never bothered to learn from Apollo how to use.

Always one to improvise, Taylor forms Stupid Plan 2.0.

Taylor summons a spear of lightning that strikes the spot where Gaia is. The earth rumbles threateningly. Fred stares up at him in disbelief. "Switch with me, hurry."

His brother's there—gold and yellow and urgent—in half a second. "What—"

"You can't challenge her, did you forget?" The Fates aren't about to make it any easier for them. For what is life without barbs and spears? Life can't go as smoothly as planned: it is a constant metamorphosis of pain and learning and suffering before reaching the desired outcome. Moaning about how unfair it was is not a feasible route: fair is getting what everyone wants and Taylor has to work to get it.

Apollo knows this, too, and his jaw clenches. "You'd have to get her off the ground"—below them, the earth churns and Earthborns are rising—"I have to fight her and all of ... _those_."

Taylor jumps off the chariot before either of them can argue. He is dwarfed by the monsters and unlike with Apollo, they do not offer him the slightest bit of comfort. He does not kid himself thinking that Gaia is unable to see him just because he cannot see her.

He's sinking ankle-deep already.

_What is the meaning of this, son of Zeus_, rumbles the earth._ I hold you to your promise._

"Just a test, I assure you!" Fred called from above. Everything's darkening and Taylor fears he'd lose his vision in the dark. "Can you beat my, uh, hero in hand-to-hand combat?"

Taylor will be killed in close combat, they all know this, but whatever lies are necessary to get Gaia to manifest. There's something churning, something that is not an Earthborn.

Taylor chops one of the Earthborn into halves. It collapses, splashing mud and Taylor is alarmed to find himself sinking knee-deep. He lurches forward—feeling his heart repeating the same motion in a thrill of horror—to where Gaia's manifestation has emerged.

Why doesn't she hide? Tch. Every immortal is just too egoistic for their own good— Taylor shrieks as a hand made of earth seizes him, snatching him from the earth.

_This boy will pose no challenge to me_, snarls the earth, _what mockery is this?_

But Gaia is desperate. Waiting millennia to rise and destroy every life form does not mean that she is willing to wait for _another_ eternity or two to pass. It is clear that Apollo has different intentions but she waits and—

Something cracks the air and Taylor sees—suffocating as his body is being squeezed—that chains of Celestial Bronze constricts are thrown around Gaia, like a cowboy lassoing a bull. In this case: a very, very stubborn heifer. The element of surprise is on their side: clearly, Gaia does not think that Apollo is capable of towing her off the ground, even if it's only an inch.

_Follow us!_

Taylor blinks, dazed and covered in mud, at the voice shouting in his head. He's world-weary and he's bone-tired of everything going on. But he staggers to his feet and pushes off the muddy earth. Apollo will probably be pissed if he isn't too busy trying to reinforce the chain from the struggling from the mud that Taylor splatters onto his beloved chariot.

Taylor feels the chariot close to tipping over.

"Off her!" he cries. "What're you waiting for?"

"If I let go for on second, she'll never be recaptured again," Apollo grits out. "My bow and special, extremely _explosive_ arrow are there. You have to shoot her down."

"What? I can't aim to save MY life!"

"It has a wide range, doesn't matter as long as your aim's not too far off the mark—DO IT!" Chains clinked together violently and Gaia's howling: surely, the whole earth is being shaken, experiencing earthquakes of varying severity.

Taylor notches the bow, feeling power thrumming through from his fingers to his whole being. He has no time to feel drunk on it, no time to relish how holding it chases the terror of Gaia and failure away, and instead, concentrates, arms trembling from pressure as he draws the bowstring back.

Apollo groans. A quick glance and Taylor sees ichor staining the bronze chains: just a drop onto the earth below and Gaia will probably awaken fully.

Taylor lets the arrow fly. "Close your eyes!" warns Apollo as the arrow glows gold, quivers and explodes—if the ensuing roar that could've heralded the world end is anything to go by. Taylor squeezes his eyes shut and turns away, hands flying up to palm his ears and he's powerless to do anything as the chariot's flung away.

Taylor's falling, his body to the earth, and his mind into the void.

Taylor wakes to a niggling worry in the back of his mind: buzzing, annoying and persistent. Gold is the first thing that comes to mind: the color of Apollo's hair, the color of his blood, the color of Kronos' eyes—

Taylor starts and his eyes fly open in undisguised horror. He makes to sit up but a gentle, slender fingered hand pushes him down, surprising force from such feminine hands. "Huh?" Dazed, he tries to take in his surroundings but he only sees a girl.

She has a gentle smile plastered onto a beautiful face; her caramel hair is braided down her side, her skin is flawless. She smells faintly of cinnamon. Taylor croaks, "Who're you?"

"My name is Calypso, young hero," she replies readily.

"'pollo?"

"Your minder is fine," she assures him, "but you are the mortal. You are the one who needs to rest." Taylor's mind fails to comprehend how he can end up on this lost island but he listens to her, he closes his eyes and lets himself drift into the embrace of Hypnos.

Taylor's glad he'd listened to her. When he wakes up again, he feels significantly well-rested. But the song that reaches his ears nearly kick him into the realm of unconsciousness again. "Stop singing, Fred!" he cries, sitting up irritably. He sees the sun god all smiles and beams and his muscles uncoil. "Gaia is—"

"Gone as far as I can tell," he chirps cheerfully, he tucks his lyre into his pocket.

Taylor feels so relieved he thinks he's cried. He does cry. Apollo touches his cheek, wiping the tears away. It surprises Taylor that he's crying; he's no wimp. "You know," Apollo says conversationally, as if they hadn't just embarked on the most dangerous task they both have probably faced, "Quests are exciting things. I wished I could go on another one. Though it's way below my station." He pouts. "Stupid ancient rules."

"Don't miss it," Taylor tells him, "they're dangerous and tasking. How did we end up here?"

"I have no idea but Calypso is very lovely," Apollo says, completely derailing from the subject at hand. He turns and looks out at the expanse of sea and white sand visible. It's the cleanest beach Taylor has ever seen and he's impressed. "It's timeless here. You'll never age, y'know?"

It sounds tempting to stay here: it's bound to be a relaxing life, if boring. But Thalia, Beryl and Jason linger on Taylor's mind—they have never left, not once. The son of Zeus knows instantly that he cannot stay here. He is ADHD, he'll go crazy from the inactivity of it all.

"What're you trying to say?" Taylor scrutinizes his half-brother's face. "I'm never staying. Please don't make me stay."

"'Course not," Apollo sounds surprised. "You're technically still a child, Calypso can't possibly fall in love with you." Taylor rolls his eyes, but the waves of relief had yet to finish assaulting his senses. He feels lightheaded from relief and a future free of large dangers: now, all they need to do is reach Camp and ... and figure their life out. The gist of the lives they want.

Apollo raps his knuckles on Taylor's head. "Stop thinking so hard, you'll get wrinkles."

"And _you_ never start thinking," Taylor retorts, but he's smiling. It fades a little when he sees how dark the world outside is. It's cloudy, as if a storm's about to, well, storm them. "You aren't pulling the sun or letting it pull itself."

"Yeah, well, I knew I'd need it when we chase Gaia around. It's damaged now: autopilot mode is gone. I think I'd ring Hephaestus up to fix it." Apollo runs a hand through his hair. "He'll visit soon, Calypso told me. So we'd have to wait."

"Can't you teleport away?" Taylor queries.

"Yes, but I'm not leaving it here."

Taylor frowns. "Then can't you send be back to my sister and Alabaster?"

"I can," he agrees, smiling warmly at Taylor. "But I don't want to."

"Why?"

"'Coz it'd be boring then. Stay for a little while. Listen as I compose a haiku and a song serenading our victory—though no one in the world will ever know."

It's a funny feeling: to save the world and have no one but the two of them know. Did Taylor feel unappreciated? No. He feels light, he feels as if he's flying even if he's sitting very firmly on the ground, leaning against the sun god, nearly nodding off. The thing weighing him down previously is his weariness and worries; now that they're gone, he feels that he's sitting on cloud nine indeed.

And it's funny, the sun isn't even out, and Taylor feels that the day is bright already.

**OMAKE—END**

. . .

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><p><strong>[AN]:<strong> I have no idea what I've done. I've been stuck at the first sentence and Moka-girl's request circling my head, unable to be put into words until today. I just wrote what came, lol. I don't really think this will be feasible, realistically, or things would've been much simpler and there wouldn't be a story at all.

The diverging point that spawned this oneshot—aside from being a request and a (an extremely belated) birthday gift for Moka-girl—is that Taylor chooses the easy way out and kills Luke and steps up to take a more prominent role instead of shrinking away from responsibility.

And since Apollo/Taylor is a popular choice, I've put him in - but also at Moka-girl's request. I tried, but I'm not sure if it's to your liking, Moka.

I'd like it if you guys can tell me which is your favorite part. :P

P.S: I'd answer the reviews of this chapter and the last together.

**Review!**


	8. VI

**Percy Jackson & The Olympians © Rick Riordan**

_AN: Now, this is the real chapter. Last chapter is not canon and is just a special oneshot. A break off point so to speak. The Grace Twins reunite in this one._

_Also, the new poll is up so vote on it!_

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><p><strong>Your Saving Grace<br>**by GaleSynch

**VI**

**.**

"And this is your bedroom. You'll be sharing with the other foster child in my care, Alabaster. He's about four years younger than you, but I hope you can get along, alright, Taylor?"

I scowled at the foster 'mother' of this house but she acted as if she was used to it. Being handed kids with troubled pasts, she was probably used to it that my glare didn't affect her much. She opened the door, revealing a moderately-sized bedroom, large enough for two people at most.

The sheets and walls were grey and white: it was a boring place and the depressing tone was what I assumed to have made the child's shoulders sagged. The brunette boy glanced up when we entered; his dark green eyes assessed me with dislike.

"Don't give Taylor such a cold welcome, Alabaster," chided Mrs. Cole as she nudged me to enter the room. "He's lost his parents as you did, too. I expect you two to get along."

"Yes, ma'am," I said politely, depositing my bag on the ground.

She nodded, satisfied. She had dark red hair and pretty light hazel eyes; she was in her thirties, about a couple of years older than Beryl. Her face was kind so my ire wasn't full-force. "You'll like it here, Taylor."

I inclined my head but did not answer. She looked slightly disappointed but my cold shoulder didn't curb the determination in her eyes; she closed the door after telling me that dinner would be ready at seven o'clock.

Confused?

Here was the short version of what happened: I fell asleep on Aellai's back and lost complete control. She dissolved into mist form, I fell flat in the middle of the road. To my luck, a police car was speeding by when they saw an unconscious kid on the ground. I'd hit the ground hard enough to be knocked out.

After interrogating me and finding out that I was essentially homeless and an orphan, they sent me to court, and I was sentenced to the Fields of Punishment—sorry, I meant this foster home. The Cole family had no children of their own: the mother was barren. So they turned to this sort of jobs to soothe their aching wounds.

From what Lily Cole had told me, Alabaster Torrington had been here a couple of months ago. He was sullen and was not pleasant at all; or, in Henry Cole's words, a tough nut to crack.

I was in Colorado, somewhere in that state (as far as Aellai had brought me before she ditched me). Nowhere near Long Island Sound. I wouldn't be staying here for long though. I was a child of the Big Three, ten-years-old and completely aware of my status as a demigod: monsters would be hounding me. The Coles were nice, I didn't want to trouble them by staying for so long.

"Hey," I said, feeling the young boy's eyes on me.

"You look like a girl," he announced flatly and promptly ignored me.

"I know I need a haircut," I grumbled, tossing myself onto the remaining bed that he did not occupy. "But you need to cheer up."

"Don't tell me what to do, newbie!" snapped Alabaster.

"Don't give me that attitude, kid, I'm older than you," I growled. He glared at me, tiny fists tightening on his book, but I ignored him, rolling over in my new bed and falling asleep almost instantly.

I stayed longer than I'd intended to. If I ignored Alabaster's nasty disposition, life at the Cole household was nice. Henry was loud and boisterous, he made Saturday a movie night and insisted we stay there and interact. Initially, I assumed I would be summoning Aellai as soon as I could and give her a good kick up the ass for ditching me then leaving for Thalia as soon as possible.

But it didn't work that way.

Life here was too pleasant to say goodbye so quickly.

I stayed there for a total of three months before I decided to leave. Life had been good, briefly, with only half a dozen monsters to deal with every week. But if I stayed any longer, I would probably stay forever and play the fake role as their son. I simply couldn't.

So, after a nice trip to the mall, I packed my bag: everything I owned was stuffed into it. I'd already prepared a note for Mr. and Mrs. Cole so they wouldn't worry their heads off. It was short:_ it has been really nice, but I need to go find my real family._

There was a tiny damper in the plan: Alabaster C. Torrington. He was a nosy kid and though he maintained his initial fierce dislike of me that persisted to the last day of my stay, he kept following me around. Adorable little brother? Hades, no. More like a possessed stalker: he was intent on catching my wrongdoings, most likely to get me kicked out of the house so he could enjoy the Cole's hospitality for himself.

Well, he need not worry. I'd be leaving tonight, at midnight.

At least, I thought so until Alabaster clung to my legs like a freaking leech to stop me from leaving just as I reached for the doorknob.

"What the hell!" I hissed, trying to pry the child off me. "Let me go!"

"You're leaving!" he cried.

"So? You hate me and I can't stay here," I sighed, peeling his fingers off but he sat firmly on my knees. "I've got to go."

"I know what you are." I stiffened, staring at him. "You're a demigod like me. I'm a son of Hecate. I knew since I was born. Mom told me to go with you. It won't be safe for me in the long run."

"Hecate... the goddess of magic?" Alabaster nodded, tiny fists tightening on the fabric of my capris. "Look, kid, I'm a son of Zeus."

He gave a small gasp. "Like, the king of the gods?"

"Yes. And it's too dangerous for you to come with me," I said, voice softening at the information. This little fellow was like me: he was kin. As much as I would appreciate the company, I was not cut out to take care of a six-year-old. I was barely able to keep myself alive as it was—fighting was one thing, protecting another was something else altogether. "Monsters attack because they caught my scent."

Alabaster held on. "I'm going with you. Mom says there's this safe place for us: Camp Half-Blood. It's in Long Island."

"No," I said firmly.

"Yes!" he yelled, raising his voice. "Either we're going or we're not!"

"There's no we!" I hissed in response, ready to electrocute him and knock him out. "There's only me and you— I don't need a burden—"

"Mom'd given me a guidebook, I'm learning to do magic and I can help you fight monsters!" Alabaster protested. "And I have a weapon and the food of the gods— nectar and ambrosia!"

OK, now that was a better ultimatum. I studied him warily, weighing the pros and cons of letting him tag along. It would be an all-time low to steal his supplies and ditch him here with no necessary supplies. "Can you not complain if we can't sleep in a bed and without a roof over our heads?" I asked, finally. "I'm warning you now, life as a demigod on the run for Camp Half-Blood won't be comfortable and mortals' scent won't mask us anymore."

"It's better than getting Henry and Lily into danger," whispered Alabaster, twiddling his thumbs. I could empathize with that. "I don't want to see them hurt." I heaved a sigh, lifting him up and standing. I placed him on the ground. "So, can I come with you?" His green eyes were alight with hope.

"On one condition," I stated. Alabaster waited patiently. "You must listen to me. If we're overrun by monsters, if I tell you to run and abandon me, you must."

Alabaster hesitated. "All right," he finally said.

I shouldered my bag. "So pack and let's go." He nodded and rushed to do as told.

Under the shadow cast by the full moon hanging high in the night, I took his hand and we fled the neighborhood.

**.**

Fortunately, Aellai and Alabaster got along pretty OK even though he screamed the first thirty minutes away—I was unaffected by his high-pitched scream as the wind swallowed his voice—so we made through highways with no problems at all.

Alabaster pestered me into teaching him how to wield a sword. I had no clue how to wield it properly either. I just swung and stabbed until the monster was dead.

"Taylor, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," I said and Alabaster pushed the flap of the tent open. Needless to say, we'd stole it. But the mortal had been exceptionally quick this time. My arm had an ugly bruise and my cheek stung from where I'd been punched. Had I not electrocuted him, I probably would've been in court or juvenile detention.

"Does it still hurt?" asked Alabaster sympathetically. His attitude had mellowed down a lot after a couple of weeks together. I'd made it clear I would not tolerate that sort of attitude and I would dump him at the police station if he didn't start learning manners.

"Mm. It stings but it'll heal."

"Are you sure you don't need ambrosia or nectar?"

"No. We have to save it since we have so little of it." With what meager money we had left, I'd _honestly_ bought adhesive pads to cover the purple bruise on my right cheek. It always made Alabaster wince and the last thing I needed was for concerned, well-meaning-but-still-annoyingly-nosy adults to stop me and inquire what was wrong.

"'m sorry, if I'd been quicker—"

"It's no problem!" I said with false-cheer, kicking down the simmering irritation; it _was_ his fault. "And didn't you want to visit that museum full of ... uh, you said that there were magical artifacts there?"

Alabaster nodded. "Mom sent me a dream..." His eyes turned misty as the Mist he manipulated.

In return for sword-fighting lessons, he promised to teach me how to manipulate the Mist. So far, I could only pray that we look invisible instead of inserting false memories, unlike the little son of Hecate. And yes, I was jealous of a kid.

"Well, let's go."

We packed before we trooped into the city, wide-eyed as we scanned our new surroundings. Something was... was... my back was tingling; the old scar awakening, my demigod instinct warning me against the city. I turned on the spot, seeking a 360-degree view.

Before I could yell, the monster overshadowed the sun and I whirled around: I saw it baring its three row of sharp teeth at a young boy, from my side-view those teeth made a shark's teeth look like a bunch of toothpicks. Alabaster yelped. "It's going to kill him!"

I lunged. "Out of the way!"

* * *

><p>Thalia had been following something Luke couldn't see.<p>

He had no idea what but if she was so intent on following it, he would too. There was no way he was going to abandon her. Thalia was his best friend—the closest and longest friend really—and he owed his life to her. If she wanted to follow some phantom lead on a wild-goose chase, he would go through with it.

"Where are we?" he asked.

Thalia shrugged, agitated, her electric blue eyes sweeping from side to side, from pedestrian to pedestrian. His friend kept running a hand through her back, through the leather jacket, as if to grasp something he could not see.

Thalia explained that there was a huge scar on her back, from where she'd been conjoined with her twin brother.

(_"Conjoined?" Luke asked. "Aren't they usually the same gender?" Then he took in her tomboyish clothing. "Oh, you look like a girl I mistook you as—" He shut up pretty quickly after Thalia decked him upside the head for his ridiculous assumption._

_"No, you idiot!" she said. "It had something to do with Hera, Taylor told me, apparently, she tried to mesh our eggs together to kill both of us. We survived, of course."_

_"So, where's he?"_

_Thalia gave him an evil glare. "If it's any of your business where my brother is, Castellan, I would've told you from the beginning."_

_"Yes, ma'am."_)

"Is your scar tingling?" the son of Hermes asked, concerned.

"Yes," she said, tight-lipped. "It usually twinges but never ... never this big of a reaction. I'm scared that something'd happened to Taylor and Jason."

But they were too far from Los Angeles to do anything. Luke thought that they had pretty much confirmed that the Grace family had moved away or had all died (not that he'd told Thalia this) for they did not answer Thalia's phone calls. They'd also found out the hard way that monsters swarmed like bees to honey when demigods used cellphones.

"I'm going to get takeout from McDonald's," announced Thalia. He could hear his stomach rumbling in approval. "Wait here."

He shrugged. "Sure."

Thalia had just entered the fast-food restaurant when the drakon fell from the sky, spraying its poisonous breath.

Luke stared—what the Hades?—before he felt someone running into him, tackling him to the ground and they tumbled into a roll of limbs until the one who'd ran into the son of Hermes stopped. Luke stared into the face of his savior but didn't managed to get a proper glimpse as the younger child rolled off him and came up standing, a bronze saber in hand.

"You're a demigod!"

Surprised, extremely familiar, electric blue eyes flashed to him then back to the pavement where Luke had stood before, completely melted and destroyed. "I'm Taylor, you?"

"Luke," he gasped out, staggering to his feet as he heard Thalia shouting his name.

There was a stunned silence as Thalia and the newly-introduced demigod Taylor stared at one another.

"Sis?" cried Taylor.

"Teddy!"

"Taylor!" wailed another voice, snapping the stunned demigods into action.

* * *

><p>You'd think my reunion with Thalia to be more ... heartwarming and touching. But no, we had to be fighting for our lives. I noticed that Thalia did not have Aegis, the fearsome shield and cursed even more.<p>

"We can't beat this," said the blonde boy—Luke. "Nope, we can't." His throat bobbed as he swallowed his apprehension.

"Our best chance is running," I agreed. "Buy time. I'm going to summon Aellai."

"No!" said Alabaster. I stared at him. "We can't outrun it. This is a test—from Mom!"

"Then pass it!" yelled Thalia, spear in hand.

"I hate tests!" shouted her friend. I saw Luke holding a bronze sword that trembled the slightest bit in his grip. I was wielding my saber but I wasn't exactly concentrating: Thalia was here, beside me, this was surreal after a year of not seeing her.

"We can only send it away through a portal before it destroys the city," mumbled Alabaster, clutching his head as he thought hard and fast. "I need a medium—an artifact—to open a portal!"

"Great, so we steal an ancient artifact from the museum?"

"Luke, go!"

"Why me?" asked Luke, baffled.

"Taylor and I will hold the fort—take the kid and open a portal—you're the son of Hermes, god of thieves, now go!"

I caught a quicksilver revelation of his emotions: disdain at the mention of his parentage but he grabbed Alabaster and took off running. "And now, we fight."

**.**

The fight was going great until was I broke every bone in my left arm. To be fair, I wasn't a very durable demigod and having the drakon's tail crashing down on your arm would be a sure-fire way to break bones.

"Teddy!"

I grimaced in pain—and annoyance at the nickname. Pain wracked my whole left side; I figured the impact was enough to break my ribs as well: breathing was hard.

I fumbled in my pocket for the emergency ambrosia I kept on me all the time—evidently, for cases like these. It was nearly crushed to fine dust but I found large enough bits to bite into. It numbed the pain anyhow. Now here was to hoping that the tail was not poisonous.

Blood poured from the cuts: Thalia was faring no better. She'd twisted her ankle and there could only be so long before she was overwhelmed. Our saving grace (ha-ha) was that the drakon happened to be very clumsy.

Aellai, I thought desperately, I've got to summon Aellai.

"Thalia, Taylor!" I whirled around, fingers closing on the familiar hilt of my saber, to see Luke waving wildly at us. "Over here, hurry!" I staggered to my feet and grabbed my sister's hand, hauling her to her feet.

We broke off into a sprint. The drakon roared and trampled everything unfortunate enough to be in its path—cars, mortals, buildings, traffic lights, signboards—in its charge towards us. Ten feet away I saw Alabaster crouching, hands clasped as if in prayer, lips murmuring words I could not catch.

There was a swirling black hole before him, churning like storm clouds. I hesitated. "Jump in—go!" Luke was suddenly there, hands guiding Thalia and I towards the portal. It certainly looked like it but I could not see what was on the other side and I was scared of it.

But Thalia's familiar warmth in my hand kept me from chickening out. Together, we plunged into it, the sensation of falling through a waterfall of sand washed over me before I landed on my back, pain flaring. "Ow!" I yelled in pain when Luke and Alabaster came crashing down on us. I groaned.

"Sorry," grunted Luke. "But this kid's out of it. It took a lot of energy for him to opened that ... potty."

"Portal," corrected Thalia, rolling her eyes. "Get off us now!"

"OK, OK..."

There was a flurry of passing hands, ambrosia and nectar making its way to everyone before we sat down and heaved a sigh of relief. "What about those mortals though?" asked Luke uncomfortably. "It was after us and we just ran..."

"It's either us or them," I said tiredly. I glanced at the son of Hecate who was snoring softly in his sleep.

"Teddy, you've got a lot of explaining to do."

"Can we not talk in the middle of train tracks where we could be run over at any time?"

So we moved. I reached out to carry Alabaster, shifting him onto my back—Thalia glared at me until we moved out of the way and I placed my young charge on the grass beside Luke. "Take care of him," I muttered to the son of Hermes who nodded, eyeing me curiously.

Taking a deep breath, I crossed over to where Thalia was standing—a couple feet away from the boys. "Where's Jason?" Thalia fired off at the start of the conversation, eyes narrowed in a dangerous manner—her words were a punch to my gut. "You didn't leave him with _Mom,_ did you? You know she can't even take care of herself—much less Jason!"

In that moment, I knew I would be unable to bear the full-brunt of her anger.

"They're gone," I blurted out before I could stop to consider my words better. Thalia's anger faltered and caught itself; she gazed into my teary eyes. I knew I was close to crying because my eyes stung and my vision was blurring drastically.

"W-what do you mean—_gone_?" She sounded as if someone was throttling her.

"The day you... left, Mom took Jason and I out. I left them only for a moment and when I came back... Mom was crying, wailing about how that she-witch took Jason and how he was dead."

Thalia staggered back; I understood how she felt. Jason was our brother, we loved him and if he really died, he was too young for that fate. "You... you... then how did Mom _die_?"

"She's not dead, as far as I'm aware. I knew I had to leave... to find you and Jason—I didn't want to believe he was dead—but I can't leave Mom either. So I left her... at a place where— where she'd be properly taken care of." Thalia's eyes were full of tears. "Then I left Los Angeles and went scouring the country for a sign of you and Jason. I—this is not the best circumstance that we could've been reunited under but I'm glad—"

"Amaltheia led me to you," she whispered and before I knew it, I had an armful of my sister. She threw her arms around me and buried her face in my shoulder and simply cried. From the corner of my eye, I saw Luke making to stand, hesitate, then sit down again.

So he already cared about her so much.

I returned her hug, standing rather stiffly, until she managed to gather herself once more.

Thalia was a strong girl; she only needed three minutes to compose herself even though her eyes were ringed red and her face still stiff with grief—she held my hand, not seeming to want to let go.

I squeezed her hand in reassurance—I didn't feel like letting go either.

**.**

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><p><strong>Updated: <strong>28 December 2014.

**Status:** Unbeta'ed.

**Question:** Do you guys have a grasp of Taylor's character yet? Or should I post a summary of his personality so you can understand him better?

**Review!**


	9. VII

Percy Jackson & The Olympians © Rick Riordan

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><p>Your Saving Grace<p>

* * *

><p>7.<p>

There were four of us in a group now and that meant double the amount of monsters in our group. Alabaster tried his best to shield us with the Mist but it was no use: monsters' Sight were as good as, if not better, than demigods' sight.

Thalia and I filled in one another about our adventures during our one-year separation. Alabaster had returned to his nasty disposition—an attitude he happily provided to strangers. I assured Thalia and Luke that Alabaster would warm up to them soon enough.

It would be hard not to when we fought together daily, back-to-back, to save ourselves as we traveled the country.

We had one firm goal in mind: Camp Half-Blood, a haven for demigods like us.

I would've been totally dandy if Luke was not with us; I'd tried to ditch him and urge the others to do so but Thalia always stubbornly waited for Luke to show up before we moved.

The traitor Luke. I glared murderously at him but when he looked up, twelve-years-old and still innocent in a way, my expression melted away to be replaced by a look of brooding contemplation. If it wasn't for his close connection with Annabeth (whom he liked in a girl-guy way), we would all be doomed under Kronos' rule.

Anyway, we had to head to Richmond, Virginia—where the daughter of Athena lived and pick her up. She was essential to the plot. She had to survive to reach Camp Half-Blood and form a close connection to Luke.

"I think we have enough money to buy a couple of instant noodles," said Luke, drawing me out of my reverie. I glanced at him. Alabaster cheered: we were all sick of eating fish we caught from the river. "I'll—"

"I'll go," I volunteered, snatching the money out of his hands. "You did it last time, it's not fair to ask you to go again."

Luke sank back to the ground, gazing at me curiously: I had not made my dislike very subtle and the only times we got along was during battle where we were forced to watch one another's back. "Oh, okay. Stay safe."

"Mm," I returned noncommittally, turning and walking away, sure that Thalia and Luke would strike up conversation about my attitude towards him once I was out of earshot.

Lucky me, I had Alabaster as a spy and he could hide himself well with the Mist. So I wasn't missing anything, really. I was just a tad miffed my sister would go talking about me behind my back. Ugh. I wasn't sure who she trusted more these days: me or Luke.

I ran a hand through my messy, wild blonde curls that were getting too long, to try and look like a normal kid instead of a vagrant demigod. I did not succeed if the looks I was receiving were any indication. I heaved a small sigh, hoping that there would be no security guards to turn me away before I could get even three feet close.

_Your hair is getting rather long, Thaddeus Grace._

I failed to stifle a yelp at the raspy voice whispering in my mind; I stiffened, turning around to see who had spoken. I would've screamed had my voice not gotten lost halfway out of my throat. I contemplated running when I saw the three old ladies—older than even time itself, it seemed—but my feet felt rooted to the spot. I could not move.

I stared, wide-eyed at the ladies. One of them raised her hand, crooking her fingers: she wanted me to go closer. I did not want to do that—nope, not at all, but my feet moved against my will and came to a stop before the three old ladies. I wished I could make them seem as harmless or as amusing as Percy Jackson did but he had been ignorant of their true power.

My lips parted but I closed them again before I could say something I would regret.

The middle sister reached out towards me—I flinched—and her bony fingers closed around my blonde hair that had reached roughly to my collarbone. She applied gentle pressure. Stiffly, I sat before them, turning my back to them as she'd indicated. I did not trust any of them to hold a sharp object near my head but I found that I couldn't push her away—not without severe consequences anyway.

There was a snip and I distinctly felt my hair falling to the ground. How could anyone make cutting hair sound so ominous I would never know.

I did not know what to do. "Were you the ones?" I blurted out. "The ones who brought me here?"

Instead of replying, something pressed into my shoulder. I glanced down to see a pair of scissors: it was the largest fucking pair I'd ever seen. I grasped it from her bony fingers and the next thing I knew, I was sitting alone, no one behind me.

What crept me out more was that they'd taken the remains of my hair.

**.**

"What took you so long?" asked Thalia grumpily, eyeing me. "...Hey, you got a haircut and you didn't invite me with you?" Her hair was reaching the small of her back; it softened the effect of a hardcore punk-girl.

I chose not to respond, I was still very disturbed by what happened. My companions took one look at my stony expression and decided not to press for answers: something I was grateful for since I did not know how to answer either. Eventually, Thalia scooted over to me. "What happened?" she asked in a murmur.

"Met some... some immortal deities."

"Dad?"

"No," I said, ignoring her sharp look of disappointment. "Three old ladies, I have no idea what they wanted from me. They gave me a haircut."

"That's..." Thalia paused, looking for a word to express her feelings.

"Weird? Creepy? Scary? Yep." I waited for a response but Thalia was staring off into the distance somewhere. I nudged her. "Sis?"

"It's her!" she cried, springing to her feet. Instinctively, I reached out to grasp my pendant but did not draw my saber just yet.

"What her?" asked Luke, crouching in preparation for an attack. Even Alabaster was tense: as the youngest, he was the most vulnerable despite our best efforts to protect him so he was always alert, ready to get out of the way.

"Amaltheia," answered Thalia in clipped tones. She rushed around, grabbing our scattered supplies and shoving it into her bag. "Come on, we've got to go!"

"Why?" I asked, baffled. Even as I spoke however, I was moving, packing everything I'd laid out. Guess we'd have to enjoy our instant noodles another time. Alabaster looked disappointed but one stern look from all of us, he got up.

"I have a feeling about that goat," she muttered in response—which wasn't really the reassuring answer I was looking for. I glanced at Luke but he shrugged unhelpfully.

Together, we took off after the goat.

**.**

Somehow, we ended up in Richmond, Virginia. This must be the Fates' intervening. And as Fate would have it, Thalia had a twisted ankle and Alabaster was too tired to continue moving. We set up camp in a secluded spot: Luke and I worked in silent tandem to make sure the other two were comfortable enough before we chased the goat in pursuit.

It was quite awkward.

I mean, I only spoke to Luke when it was necessary and we had never been left alone together before. Alabaster always stuck close by. I've never appreciated Alabaster's leeching ability before until now.

Luke broke the silence between us by clearing his throat. I tensed, throwing him s shirty look. "Well, this is weird," he commented. I looked at him again and noticed that his face was smooth, unblemished by any scar. I felt a stab of pity, recalling his ultimate fate. "There you go again," continued Luke, voice careful and mellow: as if to calm me down from any attacks. "Looking at me like that."

I snorted. "Don't be narcissistic..."

"I didn't mean it that way," Luke retorted. "Your eyes fill with pity every time you look at me— why?"

Great. He noticed. And here I thought I was being subtle. "Er..." I paused. "Well, Thalia told me about your life before you ran away from home."

His steps faltered but he forged ahead until he was walking right next to me. "Don't pity me, I don't need it," he snapped, voice razor sharp.

"Of course you don't. You abandoned your clinically insane mother to her own devices; she might be dead as we are speaking." It happened too quickly: next thing I knew, Luke had seized my collar and glared murderously into my eyes.

"Don't—pretend—that—_you_—know—anything!"

"I don't need to pretend to not know you're a horrible son!" I exploded, incensed at the blatant challenge. I blame my dad's genes.

"You abandoned your mother as well! You're not better!"

"I left her in safe hands, you jerk!" I cried, electricity arcing off my body in my ire: Luke released me and stepped back. We were glaring at one another. I smoothed my shirt, turning away first. "Just go back to Thalia and Alabaster," I said, voice cold even to my own ears. "I don't need someone to help me chase a freaking goat."

"I can show you that I'm responsible," said Luke tersely, averting his gaze when I glanced back, scowl fixed firmly on my face. "Thalia practically entrusted you to me, I've got to go with you and protect you—"

"Because you don't want to disappoint your girlfriend?" I finished snidely, anger abating when I saw red creeping up his cheeks. I had to stamp down the urge to smack him with his baseball bat or throttle him. It would be hard to explain to Thalia what happened to her 'boyfriend'.

"Wait, is that why you act like that?" asked Luke, realization coloring his words. I ignored him huffily, about to walk away, but he seized my arm, forcing me to turn around. "You think—think Thalia and I are—she's my best friend—not—whatever you think we are!" He gestured so wildly he smacked my forehead. "Sorry!"

I slugged his arm in response, huffing. "Look, no boy and girl become best friends and stay that way. You better treat her well, jerk. I don't want to be an uncle or a godfather, you better not—not—" I couldn't even finish that without gagging.

"No!"

"Yes."

Bickering, we trudged down the street, after Amaltheia.

**. . .**

Luke didn't realize until Taylor abruptly upped his pace that he hadn't release the son of Zeus; his fingers were still encircling the boy's wrist.

They had been catching sight of the goat every thirty minutes; two hours had passed and he was seriously considering giving up. "I want a cold drink," said Luke, groaning as he fanned himself. His baseball bat was slung over his shoulder. He had a sword but had lost it not long ago.

"I think she dispenses cold drinks," said Taylor and Luke stared. His brain wasn't functioning properly after so many miles of walking. He wasn't sure how much stamina the son of Zeus had but, very spitefully, he had not summoned his spirit-horse for a ride, on the grounds that "it would scare the goat away".

Having to rely on Taylor for transportation sucked, especially since he always made sure Aellai kicked Luke off or electrocute him before allowing him to ride properly.

Luke had always suspected the reason of his dislike, but hours earlier, he'd gotten confirmation from the younger boy himself: Taylor was jealous of Luke. Because of his relationship with his sister. That explained how Taylor was always glaring at Luke, like he was wishing the son of Hermes would drop dead.

The son of Zeus wasn't very subtle in his hating.

For Thalia's sake, Luke wanted them to get along but Taylor had other ideas. Taylor was nice to Alabaster and Thalia, and Luke wouldn't say no to another friend; besides, Taylor would make a nice friend. Years of being on the run had made him numb on the prospect of friends but meeting Thalia and becoming friends made the son of Hermes long for more friends, he had been reminded of the wonders of companionship.

Luke also knew very well who Thalia would chose if Taylor put his foot down and demanded separation of the group. Alabaster—adorable kid, but the attitude, _ugh_—would no doubt follow the son of Zeus and Thalia was Taylor's twin sister, no doubt she'd chose her brother over Luke.

Then, what? He'd be all alone again.

Luke was just glad Taylor was unaware of the fact, consumed by his jealousy as he was: Taylor could make Luke feel a myriad of emotions, all weaknesses he had yet to exploit.

"What are you doing?"

Luke blinked. "What?"

Taylor slapped his hand away with an irritated look. "I'm going to Amaltheia, if you're scared, stay here."

Luke looked around; the goat was just standing there, less than a hundred yards away, contentedly nibbling grass at the base of the monument.

He was no expert on barnyard animals, but Amaltheia did look strange now that we were closer. She had curlicue horns like a ram, but the swollen udders of a girl goat. And her shaggy gray fur ... was it glowing? Wisps of light seemed to cling to her like a cloud of neon, making her look blurry and ghostly.

A couple of cars looped around the traffic circle, but nobody seemed to notice the radioactive goat.

"First we hide from the goat," Luke muttered. "Now you want to talk to the goat?"

Taylor's lips thinned; he had not much patience for Luke. Actually, every positive aspect of the son of Zeus flew out the window when Luke was involved.

Luke, however, felt that he was responsible for the younger demigod simply because he was older and he owed it to Thalia to keep her brother safe.

Luke crept out of the rosemary bush, tailing Taylor; they silently approached the statue. The goat didn't pay them any attention. She chewed some grass, then butted her horns against the marble base of the monument. A bronze plaque read: Robert E. Lee.

"I don't know much about history," started Luke, looking at Taylor's back, "but I'm pretty sure Lee was a general who lost a war. That doesn't strike me as a good omen."

Taylor waved him away and knelt next to the goat. "Amaltheia?"

The goat turned. She had sad amber eyes and a bronze collar around her neck. Fuzzy white light steamed around her body, but what really caught Luke's attention were her udders. Each teat was labeled with Greek letters, like tattoos. The teats read: Nectar, Milk, Water, Pepsi, Press Here for Ice, and Diet Mountain Dew.

Taylor was examining the teats. He gulped. "Uh, Amaltheia? Can I have Pepsi?"

"We don't have a cup," Luke pointed out. "But while we're at it, I want Pepsi as well."

The goat glared balefully at them and bleated. Taylor chuckled weakly. "Right, sorry, sorry. We were just thirsty. So, what do you want me to do? Did my dad send you?"

"Um, Taylor, you sure this goat is from your dad?" Luke felt that he needed to ask.

"Yes," said Taylor, a bite of impatience in his voice. "Amaltheia, looked after baby Zeus in his cradle. She nursed him."

"On Diet Mountain Dew?" Luke asked, feeling he goat's glare scorching into his skin, but he felt that the genuine smile Taylor cracked was worth the goat's ire.

"Blaaaah," said Amaltheia.

Taylor patted the goat's head. "It's okay. He was just being an idiot, he didn't mean to insult you. Why have you led us here, Amaltheia? Where do you want me to go?"

The goat butted her head against the monument. From above came the sound of creaking metal. The demigods looked up and saw the bronze General Lee moving his right arm.

Luke fought every impulse to hide behind the goat—he didn't think it was a very heroic thing to do. He'd fought several magic moving statues before. They were called automatons, and they were bad news. He wasn't anxious to take on Robert E. Lee with a nine-iron. And to his luck, his only support was a passive-aggressive son of Zeus who would probably stand and watch Luke take a couple of beatings before stepping in.

Fortunately, the statue didn't attack. He simply pointed across the street.

Luke didn't feel like showing how nervous he felt but Taylor's eyes were piercing. "What's that about?"

Taylor clenched his jaw. "He's trying to show us something. Look."

Across the traffic circle stood a red brick mansion overgrown with ivy. On either side, huge oak trees dripped with Spanish moss. The house's windows were shuttered and dark. Peeling white columns flanked the front porch. The door was painted charcoal black. Even on a bright sunny morning, the place looked gloomy and creepy—like a Gone with the Wind haunted house.

His mouth felt dry. "The goat wants us to go there?"

"Blaah." Amaltheia dipped her head like she was nodding.

Taylor gulped, looking as unsure as Luke felt. Taylor didn't look much like his sister despite being conjoined twins; he had a softer bone-structure, all blonde and fair where his sister was dark and hard, but they had identical glares that could kill puppies. So, whatever scared him should be something that they had to take seriously, and maybe build a fort to take the threat on while they were at it.

The goat bothered Luke, and not just because she dispensed Pepsi products. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. He was sure he'd heard another story about Zeus's goat, something about that glowing fur...

Suddenly the mist thickened and swelled around Amaltheia. A miniature storm cloud engulfed her. Lightning flickered through the cloud. When the mist dissolved, the goat was gone.

"I hadn't even gotten to try the ice dispenser," mumbled Taylor, sighing wistfully. He must be really thirsty.

Luke took the chance to gaze across the street at the dilapidated house. The mossy trees on either side looked like claws, waiting to grasp the young demigods.

"You sure about this?" Luke asked Taylor. He didn't want to explain to Thalia how her brother was mutilated or dead.

Taylor hummed thoughtfully, glancing at Luke from the corner of his electric blue eyes. "Amaltheia leads us children of Zeus to good things. The last time she appeared, she led Thalia to you and you two to me and Alabaster."

The compliment warmed Luke like a cup of hot chocolate, for reasons he couldn't explain. The compliment was indirect but the son of Zeus' gaze was softer than ever when his eyes rested on Luke, like he was finally accepting Luke as something good in their lives.

Luke felt that he was a sucker that way: Thalia could flash those blue eyes, give the son of Hermes one kind word, and she could get him to do pretty much whatever. Since Taylor's eyes were identical in shape and coloring to Thalia's, Luke felt that denying the son of Zeus was pretty much impossible as well.

He exhaled. "Okay. Creepy mansion, here we come."

**. . .**

"So, let me get this straight, you're stranded in an old man's house, waiting for leucrotae to gobble you up. What the _Hades_?" Thalia's glare, if anymore venomous, could've killed both of us.

I shrugged. "We won't be monster's dinner, I swear, so calm down and rest up. We'll be back after sunset, sis, so don't worry your dark head off." Thalia didn't seem to be relenting soon and I didn't want her to come charging here just because we hadn't ended the conversation properly across the Iris Messaging. "How's summoning one of Aellai's friends coming?"

Thalia's expression fell. "No luck. I can't even summon Aellai."

"Well, they _were_ locked up by Aeolus after all..." I mumbled. "Anyway, we've got to go. Tons of plans to make. Stay safe." I wanted to add 'love you' but didn't want to when Luke was here, intruding on a private conversation.

"Yeah, stay safe both of you." Then the IM ended.

"How are we getting out?" asked Luke, resting his butt on the edge of the bathtub.

"I dunno," I answered truthfully. I wondered if this had happened in canon and how Thalia and Luke got out of it alive. "But can you get out? I want to take a bath."

"Now?" he asked incredulously, sky blue eyes wide with surprise.

"I like looking and smelling nice," I retorted dryly. "And you should take a bath, too." I wrinkled my nose as he passed me. "The smell of sweat and dirt masked your natural scent. You could've smelled nice."

Luke shot out of the bathroom so quickly the door slammed into the wall and bounced back.

"Weirdo," I mumbled, stripping.

Waiting for death was an odd feeling: I was used to being a few minutes away from life and death and the battle was the deciding factor. Fighting these leucrota's won't be a battle since my saber would do no good to it.

Halcyon Green, cursed son of Apollo, cast me an odd glance when I stepped out of his bathroom. "You _had_ to take that bath?" he asked, almost as incredulous as Luke. The expression was almost similar.

"That's what I said," Luke muttered as I passed him the towel. He slung it over his shoulder and entered the bathroom, closing it gently.

I cracked an icy smile, eyes lingering on the lone leucrota who served as Hal's speaker. I felt a little discomfort when I imagined the new clothes Hal had given me to have belonged to a dead demigod the leucrota had potentially—most likely—eaten. "I was just enjoying myself... Hal, do these creatures understand what we're saying?"

"They're like dogs," said Hal's voice from the leucrota. "They understand basic English but Greek is a most definitely. And they're very intelligent."

"Can we make a plan without them cluing in on it?" I asked. "Please, Hal, can you send them away?"

"Then we wouldn't be able to communicate," Hal pointed out with a frown.

I nodded at his laptop. "You can type there." Muffled by the wall, the shower was turned on and I heard water beating against the concrete. I watched, wringing my fingers as Hal concentrated and a full minute later, the leucrota stalked away, not without throwing a nasty glare my way.

Hal looked at me, his expression plainly saying,_ What now?_

Good question. I rubbed my forehead. "They can't be killed by any metal known by the gods or men..." I repeated, muttering the words to myself as I scrambled for a plan. I wasn't a child of Athena and I wasn't _remotely_ smart beyond being capable in Maths and Arts. "I, uh... can fire or stakes kill them?"

Hal hunched over his laptop, begun to type. I watched him curiously as he did so. He was wrapped up in Python's skin. I thought it was pretty cruel for Apollo to do it. "Hey, ever wonder if your dad did it because he was forced to?"

Hal's body stiffened at that thought. I leaned forward, suddenly energetic, "I mean, think about it! You're his son, there's no way he would ever—" But Hal was already shaking his head. His smile curved into a rueful line, his gaze on me pitying and adoring all the same.

Unbidden, the memory of Thalia accusing me of being delusional, of wanting to see the world in rose-tainted glasses, surfaced. My chest knotted in displeasure and anger at that look Hal was giving me: he thought I was hopelessly naive. Miffed, I crossed my arms and read what he had written.

_Ordinary fire won't harm them, a few demigods tried that. And these aren't vampires._

Ordinary fire. "That's it!" I cried, elated as the fine bones of a plan started forming in my head. I've got to tell Luke, I darted to the bathroom, throwing the door open. "Hey, Luke—!" I broke off when I heard an unmanly yelp. Oh, shit.

"What the hell? I'm bathing! GET OUT!"

My face was flaming as I stumbled back, closing the door. Hal was doubled over and his body shook so much I thought he was having a seizure before he looked up briefly and I realized he was laughing at me. "Hey!" I protested, feeling absolutely humiliated and cursing demigod ADHD over and over again. I felt like I would never be able to look at Luke without... thinking of this.

I'd seen nearly everything. I wanted to keel over dead. Suddenly, being eaten by the leucrota didn't seem so bad anymore.

"Are you done yet?" I asked churlishly. Hal straightened with a muted cough, nodding though his lips were stretched widely and his eyes glimmered lively, so unlike before and he looked decades younger. I wondered how long it'd been since he'd laughed—a pure, genuine sound of pleasure.

My heart ached for him. "My plan consists of—I'm not sure if you've heard of it but it's called—Greek fire."

Hal's eyes widened, excitement coloring his pallid features as he nodded. He made wild gestures before pointing at the bookshelves. "You have the recipe?" I asked, feeling hope flooding my tight chest.

_There must be_, he mouthed and we started for the bookshelves. I tossed books that did not contain the information I wanted, too impatient to arrange it.

So when Luke stepped out of the bathroom, he came into a battlefield of fallen books and two demigods paging books at an impossible speed. "What're you looking for?" he asked. I pretended to be very interested in the book, trying to ignore how my cheeks flamed.

Luke sounded pretty uncomfortable, though, so at least I wasn't alone in my embarrassment. "Greek fire," I said, voice higher than normal. "Help us find it."

"Fire— it works on leucrota?"

"We're about to find out."

When Luke crouched next to me and searched the lower-half of the shelves, I wanted to smack him and scream at him to get ten thousand feet away from me but I squashed down the irrationality. I gave the book a passing glance, about to chuck it away, when I saw it: the shield of Zeus and Athena, Aegis.

I blinked. It wasn't frightening. But it fit the description of Thalia's would-be shield in the books. I wondered why she hadn't gotten it yet. Thinking about Thalia led me to think about Amaltheia who'd led us here. "I wonder why the goat led us here," I growled, thinking that if I ever saw it again, I would flay it alive and use its pelt as a blanket.

Hal tapped my shoulder. He gestured to the laptop: _What goat? Didn't you come here for the treasure?_

I stared. "What treasure?"

**.**

* * *

><p><strong>Updated on 7 January 2015<strong>

_Happy New Year everyone! :P_

**Q:** If you were a demigod, whose demigod child would you be? It tells a little about personalities.

**Review!**


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